


For All My Good Intentions

by donutworry



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Dark, Demonic Possession, Demons, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Horror, Literary References & Allusions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Drama, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:11:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7612315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutworry/pseuds/donutworry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TVD Final Season AU: Bonnie should have just died rather than open the vault. But she didn't die, it is open, and now she has to live with the consequences. When an old enemy crops up unexpectedly, Bonnie is forced to face her demons - or be killed by them. Canon-compliant until S8. (Cross-posted to FFN)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my au revoir to TVD and Bonnie Bennett specifically now that the show is ending. Bonkai, obviously, because if I was going to give Bonnie an endgame, y'all already know who it would be. Prepare for a shitstorm because I like my material dark and messy.

**Part One**

 

**_“Remember the suffering of Christ, the storms that were weathered...the crown that came from those sufferings which gave new radiance to the faith...all saints give testimony to the truth that without real effort, no one ever wins the crown.”_ **

**-Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, venerated saint and martyr**

 

-o0o-

 

It doesn’t hurt. It’s too quick and too brutal to feel like much of anything, but there is a moment of disorientation when Kai’s vision seems to drop even though he knows he’s standing up. And he is standing - over himself, a round object rolling away from him like a soccer ball; it takes a moment of staring down at his own body to comprehend it.

_That’s my head...I’ve lost my head!_

It’s a hysterically funny thought, really, albeit a short lived one. In the moment of comprehension, Kai plummets. He thinks he plummets. He’s not sure. It’s a rushed a moment. One second he’s looking over himself, fallen fairy lights twinkling around him, the breaths of the girl he loves and hates in equal measure wheezing in the background - and the next second, he’s plunged into brightness after a brief sensation of vertigo.

Vast, empty whiteness spans infinitely around him. Kai can only briefly take it in because the pain starts then, burning, ripping, maiming - he’s losing another body part, he’s sure of it. Only this time it’s slow and cruel. But then the agony is over and he’s staring at Luke, who’s staring at him, expressions of surprise mirrored on each brother’s face.

“Luke?”

“Kai?”

They speak as one. Luke’s face morphs, understanding then anger then sadness, and the younger Parker reaches for his older brother.

He never makes it.

Hands, millions of tiny, grasping shadow hands grip the two in a sudden cacophony of angry hisses and mocking laughs. The brightness of the room garnishes a red hue. The hands pull the brothers apart, the fairer being yanked upwards while the darker is dragged down.

“Don’t leave me,” Kai pleads in a sudden rush of fear. The sympathy on Luke’s face and the strained brush of their fingers against each other are the last thing Kai sees and feels before all light is traded for cloying, inky dark.

After that, it becomes hazy. Kai had thought he’d learned emotion after merging with Luke, but he was wrong; emotions are all he has now, the only things that keep him company. Humiliation, fear, relief, anger, regret, love, hope, despair - they crowd him when he begs and pleads for the pain to stop. His harassers come in many forms: his father, Jo, Luke and Liv, the taxi driver he killed, Liv’s werewolf boyfriend, the magic eating bloodsuckers, Alaric, Damon, his mother.

And _her_.

The head games are worse than the physical afflictions. Kai much prefers being ripped apart than to being held by _her_ when he’s put back together - only to be left alone the moment he tries to embrace her back.

He’s alone for a long time when he rages after one such moment, after he screams at her to leave him alone for good. But when he’s granted his wish, he’s unsure of how to feel. That’s when the sound of voices comes to him.

Kai ignores them at first. Of course he does. It’s another trick. But the narration is constant and brings with it information. Heretics. Lily Salvatore. Klaus Mickelson. Julian. The dissolution of the Original family. The subsequent magical uproar in New Orleans. The Armory. Rayna Cruz. Things about magic -old, chaotic magic - he’s never learned of before. Huntress Curse. The Bennett prophecy. One voice brings with it a slithery sensation, speaks louder and more often than the others.

It persists until Kai starts to listen, to really take in and hear what’s being said. He begins to think the voices are not a trick after all, and so when the offer is made, he takes it.

And when he wakes up in a swamp - naked and emaciated and covered in mud, head attached firmly to his shoulders, mosquitoes buzzing in his ear, teeth aching to tear into a jugular, mission firmly ringing in his mind - he’s glad he did.


	2. Beg Your Pardon, You're Standing on My Love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Save Your Goodbye" by Mike Posner.

**_“It is easy to hate and it is difficult to love. This is how the whole scheme of things works. All good things are difficult to achieve; and bad things are very easy to get.”_ **

**-Confucius, Chinese philosopher, followers of his teachings wrote “Analects” post-mortem**

 

-o0o-

 

Her boyfriend is standing over her best friend, watching the petite woman asleep on the couch with a weary look on his face. Sighing heavily, Stefan bends down to scoop Bonnie up, and disappears back into the bedroom with her. Caroline continues to pack their supplies and straighten up the kitchen table.

“She’s dead to the world,” Stefan announces as he reappears beside her a few minutes later. He presses a quick kiss to her mouth. “She must not be sleeping when we’re not around.”

Caroline waves at the table in front of them, indicating the piles of old books, stationery, and magical supplies strewn about.

“I believe you,” she replies.

The older vampire smiles wryly and grabs a bag to take out to the car. With his help, the two immortals are packed quickly and Caroline goes to check on her sleeping friend.

Bonnie is indeed dead to the world and Caroline frowns at the dark bruises decorating the spaces below her eyes and the rail-thinness of her wrists. She makes a note to herself to make sure the leads they follow are closer to the cabin and to have Ric drop by with the girls more often. Bonnie alone was apparently a Bonnie that neglected her body’s needs.

Stefan had arranged her so that she could easily clutch both the copy of  _ The Call of the Wild _ she’d been holding when she first sat down on the couch and Ms. Cuddles. She hasn’t moved at all apparently, so deep in sleep she was. Eyes again tracing the bones visible in Bonnie’s hands, Caroline wonders if she has to threaten the other with an IV drip and an intervention to get her to start eating and sleeping properly again.

Listening closely to the steady heartbeat emanating from the bed’s occupant, Caroline takes comfort in the sound when she bends down to drop a kiss to Bonnie’s forehead.

Stefan is waiting in the car when she finally sidles into the passenger seat, cell phone clutched to her ear. Ric doesn’t pick up, so Caroline leaves him a message, asking him to call her back with the girls and to check in with Bonnie to make sure the woman is making efforts to stay alive. He’s been staying nearby for the summer, mostly so that the twins can spend time working on their magic with Bonnie; Caroline thinks it would be nice for him and the twins to see her while she’s following the new lead.

“How’s he doing?” Stefan asks her too casually after she hangs up. Caroline quirks a pale brow at him.

“Do you care?”

He chuckles. “Okay, then. How are Lizzie and Josie?”

A smile overtakes Caroline’s face. “They’re getting ready to start Kindergarten and Lizzie is already making friends with some of the other kids from preschool, which is great, but I’m a little worried Josie’s going to be left behind because she’s so much shyer than her sister.”

Listening with a soft smile as Caroline speaks about her daughters, Stefan pulls onto the highway and drives toward North Carolina, where the latest ‘Museum of Bodies’ has been found.

 

* * *

 

Kevin jerks awake when the car stops with a sudden slam of the brakes and he turns to his sister with an angry glare.

“What the fuck, Zo? You can’t just stop like that in the middle o-,” he trails off when he notes the look of horror on her face and he turns to the windshield to see what has Zoey so enraptured.

He feels sick himself when he sees the naked man standing before their car, hand thrown up and hunched over like he could stop the vehicle if he tried. Kevin strongly doubts he could.

Caught in the headlights, the man’s bare, mud-streaked body appears near skeletal. The man’s stomach is so hollow that it’s horrendously concave, indicating how deflated his internal organs must be. His joints are knobby and the portion of his spine that’s visible is a rigid strip. The skin on his face is so sunken that his eyes seem almost like holes in the gap between the shaggy hair and long, mangy beard.

The abuses he must have suffered are apparent as well: angry, red scars stripe the spaces between his jutting ribs. His shoulders and chest are mottled with purple and yellow bruises and his hands and feet are mangled in a way that indicates that they were apparently broken and allowed to heal wrong. Being in his last year of medical school, the car passenger immediately goes into red-alert.

“Oh my god,” Kevin says and goes to exit the car. His sister grabs him and yanks him away from the door handle.

“What are you doing?” she demands. “He could be dangerous!”

Kevin shoots her an incredulous look. “Really? Him?” he indicates the severely malnourished man barely managing to stand outside. “A small gust of wind could take him down. I think I’ll be fine.”

With that, he grabs a blanket from the backseat and exits, ignoring Zoey’s angry hiss. Approaching the man slowly, Kevin informs him gently that he has a blanket and he’s going to put it around him. He doesn’t want to spook the poor man; whatever he’s been through, it’s obvious he didn’t do it to himself. The closer he gets, the more he is assaulted with the smell of rot and tepid swamp water. When he’s finally able to wrap the man up in the blanket, he has to hold his breath. He can see the open, pus-filled wound on the man’s side and the blackened skin around it makes the word ‘gangrene’ crop up in his mind.

The man seemed to shrink in upon himself when Kevin got first touched him, but once he makes an effort to clutch the blanket tighter with his mangled hands, Kevin pulls away to help him feel more comfortable. The student-doctor’s heart hurts just looking at the man.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Are you feeling pain anywhere? I can help you a little, but you really need to get to a hospital.”

The man looks up at him, and Kevin feels a little unnerved being watched so closely by someone who appears to be the very image of death, but he forces himself to remain professional. Hollow-eyed and scary-looking or not, this person needs help. The man finally nods, and speaks in a soft, croaky voice.

“Hungry,” he states and Kevin nods.

“You can’t eat too much yet,” he says apologetically. “You might get sick and the doctors need to be able to check you out. I have some fruit juice in the car, though, the liquid and sugar will help.”

At the man’s acquiescence, Kevin guides him to the car and scoots in the backseat next to him for safety. Ignoring Zoey’s sour, bitchy glare, he tells her to take them to the nearest hospital. After she plugs in the coordinates and takes off, Kevin gets the man next to him a bottle of cranapple juice and has him sip it slowly until it’s finished.

“Whe-?” the man starts. He licks his lips. “Wherur we?”

“Beaumont,” Kevin answers. When the word rings no sign recognition, he clarifies. “Beaumont, Texas. We’re around the swamplands.”

“Texas,” the man repeats. His voice is still soft and flat, but something about it makes Kevin think of someone in mourning.

“Yeah,” he answers softly. “I’m Kevin and that angry snake is my twin, Zoey. What’s your name?”

The man blinks watery, sunken eyes at him. He looks confused and contemplative and Kevin is patient, recalling that one of the symptoms of starvation is slowed mental facilities.

“I -,” he pauses. “Twin sister, too,” he finally says. Kevin blinks, a little surprised at where he took the conversation, but he pursued the line anyway.

“Oh yeah? Do you remember her name or where she is? Maybe we can contact her.”

The man shook his head slowly. “She’s dead. Whole family. My fault,” it shocks Kevin when his whole face suddenly crumples like he’s about to cry. “Sorry,” he moans, hunching over.

“I’m sorry.”

He repeats this, even as Kevin pats gentle, soothing circles on his back. The lamentations are said more strongly with each reiteration and the young physician doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more pitiful creature than the man before him. He pulls back when the man sits up and faces him with more energy than Kevin thought he had.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats once more, this time in dry whisper. Fright overcomes Kevin when he sees the man’s eyes turn red and the black veins that swarm up around them. Sharp, white teeth gleam in the man’s mouth when he buries his bearded face in Kevin’s neck, yanking his head back with sudden, monstrous strength. Pain erupts from the spot.

He’s biting me, Kevin thinks. He must be really hungry.

The last thing he hears is the squeal of braking tires and Zoey’s terrified screaming.

 

* * *

 

Bonnie is irritated when she wakes up the next morning to find that Stefan and Caroline went to North Carolina without her. She eats half a bowl of oatmeal after reading the blonde vampire’s passive-aggressive note and tries to pass time by playing guitar, doing her best to ignore the call of research. The notes are flat and inharmonious, much like how she feels, but Bonnie can’t bring herself to care enough to tune the instrument.

It’s a pleasant surprise when Alaric comes by with Lizzie and Josie and a lunch that the four of them quickly settle down to eat. Afterwards, they play hide-n-seek in the woods behind the cabin and watch Disney movies until the girls pass out. Ric and Bonnie make dinner, sharing any new information they’d each found out about the vault in low tones. Bonnie feels trepidation when Ric starts talking about Hellmouths and the possibility that the vault might be one.

After dinner, the small family spends the night. Alaric takes the guest room and the girls insist on sleeping with Bonnie. Crowded in the bed by two tiny bodies, Bonnie is forced to push away her usual ennui and enjoy the sensation of peace her godchildren made her feel. She falls asleep easily for once and the night passes by tranquilly.

“Wake up,” a childish voice says. “Auntie Bon, wake up.”

Small hands jostle her shoulder, and Bonnie bites back her grin, pretending to sleep further. She can feel breaths on her cheek and she can just imagine the small face peering at hers curiously. The hands shake her again.

“She’s ‘sleep. Stop,” Josie says.

“I wanna talk to her,” Lizzie replies and Bonnie can tell it’s her the hands are attached to. The more outgoing twin jostles her again. “Auntie Bon?”

Bonnie suddenly flips over, grabbing both the siblings with a mock roar and begins a tickle assault of epic proportions. Childish squeals of laughter fill her bedroom and Bonnie’s own laughs join in. Unbeknownst to them all, the twins’ father stands in the doorway with a grin, happy to see his daughters and their favorite aunt all glowing with joy. He announces himself when the twins tackle Bonnie and begin their own attack of tickles and swinging pillows.

“Well, I was going to ask who wanted French toast, but -” he gets interrupted by his dark-haired daughter leaping off the bed.

“French toast, French toast! C’mon, Auntie Bon!” Josie pulls on Bonnie’s hand who follows her with a grin. Alaric picks up Lizzie and trails after the two.

Breakfast with two energy-filled little girls is loud, entertaining affair. When each sister is finally settled to a plate of her liking, Bonnie and Ric are finally able to sit down with some coffee and their own food-laden plates, listening to the girls chatter and trying to make sure they eat enough before running off.

Observing her nieces, Bonnie marvels at how lively they are and thinks about a time when it was certain they were no more. The thought process leads Bonnie to think of their mother - the biological one - and Bonnie finds herself watching Josie, who looks almost like a replica of the mother she was named for and will never meet. Unbidden, it occurs to Bonnie that Josie, looking so much like Jo with her chocolate hair and ocean eyes, also resembles a certain uncle of hers that she will also never meet. Bonnie has to shut the thought down quickly; she cannot bear to think of these sweet girls in relation to their maniacal uncle. Looking away from Josie, Bonnie observes Lizzie, who despite having Alaric’s coloring, has a face exactly like Liv Parker’s.

Saltzman may be their last name, but it appears the Parker genes are strong.

On that note…

“Who wants to practice magic?” Bonnie inquires, standing abruptly. Ric looks at her oddly.

“They’re not done eating yet,” he says it slowly, confused by Bonnie’s declaration, despite the girls’ loud pledges of interest.

Bonnie smiles at him, mildly chagrined. “You’re right, sorry.” She turns to the twins. “Finish up here and get dressed first, okay? After we’re all ready, we’ll go outside.”

She winces softly at their disappointed faces - which she caused - and disappears to get dressed herself. Gathering candles and a bag of brightly colored craft feathers, Bonnie heads outside to enjoy the sun until the girls and their dad finally join her.

The lesson goes smoothly - fake feathers rain down and halo the adults - and Bonnie can feel the faint echo of her own magic, frustratingly blocked off the way it was, respond to the energy. Oddly enough, despite both twins being siphons, both could also practice magic. Bonnie theorizes that it has something to do with having Caroline as a surrogate or even with them being the miracle results of a strong spell, but there’s no real knowledge as to where the girls draw their magic from.

The Saltzmans leave just before dusk, after the youngest two swear their magic use to secrecy and the patriarch hands Bonnie a parcel of books. Bonnie waves as Ric drives off and then heads back inside.

The sudden absence of noise is uninspiring, so Bonnie cleans up and heads to bed after taking a heady shot of bourbon. The night passes uninterrupted and the next day, Bonnie is finally able to give in to the urge to do some research. She looks up Hellmouths and tries to find any mention of them in the older texts and the books Ric left her.

Hours pass this way and Bonnie gets lost in translating ancient Latin. It’s dark outside when a sharp knock sounds, startling her. Who the hell...? The late time and the isolation of the cabin make Bonnie wary of the sudden visit.

Checking her belt for the knife Stefan insisted she always keep with her, Bonnie makes her way to the front of the cabin. One hand on the knife’s hilt behind her back and the other on the knob, she pulls the door open to see who was on the other side.

“Bonnie?” a low, familiar voice asks. Her heart nearly stops.

 

* * *

 

They’re theorizing on where the rogue vampires could be now that it appears that this latest ‘museum’ has been abandoned. He had intended to wait them out so he could go catch up with his travel companion, but he’s bored now and can no longer listen to this insipid conversation. Coming up behind the two vampires before him with a lazy swagger, he smiles when he sees which particular display has enthralled them.

“Enjoying the display?” he asks amicably, hands behind his back. He glances at the dinner table they stand before and the dismembered individuals seated around it. “Damon was particularly inspired with this one. I think he called it  _ ‘A Family: Torn Apart.’ _ ” 

The two whirl around to face him, surprised, and he tsks at them in disappointment.

“What kind of vampires are you, being snuck up on so easily? Pitiful.”

“Enzo,” Caroline breathes out. She goes to take a step forward, but pauses when he shows his hands and the crossbow they wield.

“Yes, darling?” he inquires. She swallows hard and decides to be brave; she takes another small step in his direction.

Almost immediately, Stefan cries out and crumples, the vervain-soaked stake now pinning his hand to his thigh the reason for his fall. Distracted by this, Caroline isn’t ready to fight Enzo off when he discards the crossbow and grabs her neck, snapping it with sharp twist. Her body falls with a muted thud, but Enzo is already watching Stefan with friendly smile.

“You two,” he announces. “Are absolutely dreadful at this vampire thing.”

He makes his way over to the dinner table display, aware of Stefan watching him closely as he daintily plucks a carving knife from the mother's severed hand. Whistling a happy tune, he walks back over to Stefan and rests the knife against his neck. He only just knicks the edge of the other’s throat when the Salvatore speaks up.

“Bonnie can't sleep at night,” he states and Enzo pauses to listen. “She doesn't sleep and she doesn't eat properly because she always looking for ways to bring you home.”

Stefan turns his head just the slightest to meet the other vampire’s gaze, hoping to see something of the man who deeply loves his friend.

“She just wants you to come home, Enzo.”

Enzo isn't sure what the other sees on his face; maybe it's exactly what he was hoping for. Because Enzo does feel it, the longing for the girl who made him feel like a real person for the first time in long stretch of years and sadness that she isn't faring well. However, the feeling is not enough to combat the corrupting force that resides within him now. And it certainly isn't enough to stop him from ramming the knife in Stefan Salvatore’s neck and leaving him to bleed out.

 

* * *

 

It’s dark when he finally pulls up to the lonely cabin. He squints at it in disdain, unsure if this is really where Bonnie Bennett resides. But the burning feeling in his chest he’s felt for the past three days dissipates and the powerful, slithery voice in his head - the voice of a dragon, Kai thinks - is quiet, so she must be near.

Stepping out of the stolen car, Kai pauses when he catches the scent burnt flesh and sulfur in the air. He reaches inside the car to grab the canister of black salt he made on his way here, more alert now than before. The Heretic grimaces at his scruffy reflection when he shuts the door. He's grateful that the ingestion of so much blood put an end to his Crypt Keeper look, but once he informs Bonnie of his mission and gets her somewhere safe, he's going to have to shave and shower away the grime of the past three years.

Three years. It seemed both too long and too brief an interim to account for what he went through. He could barely believe it when he saw the date on Kevin’s phone. 

He winces internally at the thought of the kind man he killed and hopes that by now his family has been informed of the tragic car accident he and his twin were in. He hopes they'll somehow manage to get past the loss of two family members.

Yet another family he's destroyed. The weight of his sins is heavy, but Kai knows he must bear it.

The front door is already open when he gets there; pushing it open, Kai peers inside, alarm spiking when he sees the trashed room.

Foregoing common courtesy, he quickly siphons away the magic that keeps him from entering and storms the room. The brimstone smell from before is stronger inside and Kai bares his teeth in an unconscious snarl. He listens closely, but the cabin is dead silent. It's not a comforting idiom, but he tries to tell himself that he would  _ know  _ if she was dead. He was far too in tune with her life force now to be fooled.

Besides, he tells himself, they can't kill her. She's the last Bennett. They need her alive.

Studying the room, he takes note of the trashed guitar and scattered papers. Bending down he reaches for a notebook, recognizing Bonnie’s neat handwriting. He reads the notes and is impressed to find that she's been looking into Hellmouths - hopefully that would make what he had to tell her easier to digest.

The familiar scent of her blood catches his attention and he follows a trail of the droplets to the bathroom. The door is ruined, splintered and completely snapped open down the middle. It looks like someone went Jack Nicholson on it. Turning away from the pile of matchsticks, he steps inside where a broken window beckons him.

Picking up a bloody shard from the sill, he brings it to his face and delicately licks at it. The taste of Bennett blood, precious and rare, coats his tongue, followed closely by the bitter taste of  _ nefaria sanguis. _ Kai growls out loud in anger.

“I'm going to fucking kill you,” he vows, just before a loud feminine scream shatters the air.


	3. Swear to God, She's a Blessing and a Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Violence and threats of rape, attempted kidnapping (demons guys, it's gonna get brutal)

**_“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”_ **

**-J.R.R. Tolkien, writer and scholar, excerpt from** **_“The Fellowship of the Ring”_ **

 

-o0o-

 

_ Still half-asleep, she stumbles into the bathroom, eyes closed against the dim, but still harsh light. Through squinted eyes she manages to paste her toothbrush and bring it to her mouth, resting her weight against the edge of the sink as she tries to pull her consciousness out of the fog of sleep. The sound of her brushing her teeth is a steady rhythm in the quiet room and she is intent on the noise, so much so that it surprises her when a hand glides its way down her spine. The thick forearm it’s attached to pulls her into a warm, firm chest. A stubbled chin settles in the space between her neck and shoulder and the woman smiles around her brush, eyes still closed. _

_ She hums her appreciation as her surprise hugger continues to trace the outlines of her body, warmth suffusing into every place the hands pass over her tired body. She leans over to spit out the toothpaste and rinse her brush, finally opening her eyes to catch the gaze of her husband in the mirror. He winks at her reflection, but continues petting her actual body as she stands to full height. His strokes take on a different intent, brushing over her breasts with greedy palms and she arches her back, ass pressing into his groin. _

_ “Good morning,” she murmurs, voice low and eyes half-lidded as she watches him in the mirror. _

_ “Good morning,” he intones back. He presses a kiss to her ear, mouth lingering so he can whisper his inclinations directly into her mind. A pulse passes between her legs, the muscles clenching on empty air. His inclinations leave her wanting. _

_ “Well,” she invites lowly. She watches his reflection with dark eyes. “I’m about to take a shower - you’re welcome to join me.” _

_ His reflection grins. _

 

* * *

 

“Bonnie?” a low, familiar voice asks. Her heart nearly stops.

“Jeremy?” she gasps. Bonnie stares at him dumbly, momentarily shocked, before launching herself in his arms. He grunts at the sudden weight on his frame, but hugs her back quickly.

“What are you doing here?” she inquires as she pulls back to look at him. “How did you find me?”

He smiles wryly. “Well, you didn’t make it easy. I heard about Damon and his little friend. I thought I’d try to check on you, but you weren’t in Mystic Falls...”

Jeremy trails off. A part of Bonnie is delighted that her ex was concerned enough to come check her safety. Another part of her is skeptical. Why now? After so much time?

Shooing away her thoughts, the former witch pulls him inside the cabin. “How have you been? What have you been up to?”

He eyes her skeptically. “I’m fine, Bonnie. I’ve been hunting. Then I caught wind of what was going on down here and I headed over. Just like I said. How are  _ you _ holding up?”

Bonnie bites her lip, unsure of how to answer. She makes her way to the kitchen, deciding to make tea to stall for time. She doesn’t know what to tell Jeremy, how to catch him up on the four years of her life he’s been absent from. Once upon a time, he was the boy next door, her childhood friend’s little brother. Then he was her lover. And then he was gone.

She doesn’t know who he is anymore.

How does she tell this person about the Heretics? About being on the run from the Armory? Rayna Cruz and then the Huntress curse which briefly made her of his ilk?

Bonnie hears her ex-boyfriend follow behind her. She glances at him briefly as he lingers at the counter. She sighs. The only place to start was the beginning. Focusing on making the tea, she doesn’t look at him, hoping the lack of eye contact would make things easier.

“After you left, it was quiet for a bit. I was actually in Europe with Damon and Alaric for a the summer, but when we came back to Mystic Falls the town was totally abandoned. It turns out that Lily Salvatore and her Heretics had been -”

The blow comes unexpectedly, knocking her at the crown and causing her forehead to crack against the edge of the stove. There is a moment where all Bonnie registers is the feeling of utterly betrayal. She can feel a warm gush of liquid at both locations on her head as she falls down onto her behind, looking up at Jeremy stunned. He has a heavy cast-iron pan in his hand and he’s looking at her nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just try to bust her noggin open. Bonnie touches her split forehead, disbelieving of the blood that coats her fingertips.

“Jeremy?” she calls dazedly.

His eyes flick completely black, like flat, abysmal disks. He smiles charmingly at her with a lazy shrug.

“Not really,” he assures her, before swing the heavy pan at her again. Bonnie is already scrambling away, fighting off dizziness and dread.

Jeremy - is that even Jeremy? - tsks in annoyance when the pan glances off the floor. “Be still,” he orders, straightening up to pursue her.

Bonnie staggers away. He’s between her and the front door and she needs to exit the vicinity immediately. There is a window in the bathroom just big enough and low enough for her to crawl through.

Eyeing her pursuer fearfully, Bonnie backs further into the cabin. He paces her leisurely, spinning the cast-iron handle in one hand like it was light-weight.

“Come over here so I can knock you out, little Bennett,” his voice is different now. Slithery, oily like slime. She grabs the closest things she can - the heavy tomes Alaric lent her and some notes tucked into them and tosses them in rapid succession at him. He blocks the onslaught with his arms and she use the distraction to rush into the bathroom in the bedroom, for once grateful for about the heavy wood door. No sooner had she locked it and slid a vanity bench in front of it when a  _ thud _ resounded from the other side. The impact made her jump back.

The thuds are heavy and rapid against the door as she struggles to get the window open. It was stuck.

“Dammit, c’mon!” she hisses.

_ Bang, bang, bang, bang. _

Blood drips into her eyes and she has to blink several times to clear it. Fear is a metallic taste in her mouth and an active heart in her chest. She yanks the shower curtain rod down and uses it to smash the window.

_ Bangbangbangcreeeeeaak. _

Bonnie looks over to the door after clearing the glass, surprised to see half of Jeremy’s black-eyed face peering in at her. The wood around the hole looks like someone strapped a small bomb to it.

“Oh? You’re trying to escape? Good luck.”

He backs up a little and the pan in his hand is being used like an axe, his blows harder than before as he wails against the weak spot on the wood. Heart in her throat, Bonnie pulls her upper body out window. The banging and splintering of wood is the soundtrack of her escape.

She is almost free when something slams against her foot. With a cry, she throws herself forward, breaking her fall with her shoulders as she looks back. Jeremy’s form stands at the window, the light behind him completely blacking out his features. The sight terrifies the hell out of Bonnie and she gets up, limping away into the woods as quickly as she can.

The sound of his chuckle follows her. Bonnie knows he is giving chase. Terror clasps at her like a hungry siren, like a cold bear-trap. Her stomach is clenched up in knots and Bonnie prays she can make it far enough into the forest to disappear into the dusk.

Her foot cries out in pain as she tries to run on it as normally as possible, but she ignores it. Adrenaline helps. She feels like she is trapped in one of those nightmares where some monster is chasing her and no matter how fast she runs, she can’t get anywhere. Bonnie feels like that, the trees all blending together in the dark and her ragged breath filling her ears.

Uncertain of how much time has passed, she continues to zig-zag through the forest. Darting left then right then right again in hopes of confusing her predator. After a while, she spots a large tree stump and hunkers down behind it. Taking a deep breath, she holds it, and focuses on her ears trying to listen for Jeremy and ignoring the pounding of blood in her ears.

It’s quiet. Even the night time noises are dimmed. Dread fills her belly as she listens. She is unsure if she should stay hidden or take off again. She waits and listens more.

Something ahead and to the right of her snaps and her head twists in that direction. A moment later, strong hands tangle in her hair and pull her backwards over the stump.

Bonnie shrieks, loud and terrified, grabbing at the hand. It earns her a hard smack to the face.

“You play hide and seek good, ya know?” Jeremy doesn’t sound like himself at all and something other than his pitch-black eyes is off about his face. “But Bennett blood is precious and potent. It smells like power. Like how fucking a crying bitch feels.”

The hand in her hair tightens it’s grip and gives her head a little shake. It makes her head pound, all her aches from before coming back to her. The adrenaline is still pumping at high volume through her, but her terror overrides it as she looks at that sinister, dark gaze. Whoever - whatever - this is, what he plans to do to her is worse than what he’s already done. She can see the awful anticipation.

“Do you cry like a bitch, Bonnie? Will you beg me to stop if I fuck you?” He tosses her carelessly against the tree stump. The impact makes stars swim in Bonnie’s vision.

“You’re already bleeding anyway - that’s going to get me punished, don’t ya know? Your blood is precious, very, very sacred.” His voice sounds very close and very far away at the same time. Bonnie, gets on her hands and knees, trying to focus and prop herself up. “Hmm. I guess now, it’s more important to bring you back alive.”

Hands suddenly grasp her hips and tug her back. Despite her dizzy and dazed state, she quickly figures out what he is about to do and tries to get away.

“No,” she protests, as strongly as she can. She has no clue how authoritative she sounds, but her voice is muffled to her own ears. ‘Jeremy’ slams her head into the hard ground, the dirt filling her nostrils. Her head swims even more.

“You can cry if you want,” he informs calmly. He pats her ass sharply. “I don’t mind.”

“Get off her,  _ nefaria sanguis. _ She’s not for your consumption and you know it,” a new voice joins them suddenly, and Bonnie wants to cry in relief. The new voice is vaguely familiar, but she doesn’t trust that. The face of her would-be rapist had seemed familiar too.

“Baby boy. Hello!” The fake Jeremy sounds surprised, but not particularly concerned. Bonnie wonders if maybe she rejoiced too soon. “Daddy’s through with you already? And sending you after the big fish, I see. He even let you have your old body. You must have been very good to earn that, baby boy. What did you do?”

He seems genuinely curious and completely casual for all that he was crouched behind her and holding her down by the hips.

“Come on, let’s take her back. You’ve already done enough damage,” the new voice scolds.

‘Jeremy’ sighs, but lets go of her. Bonnie lurches away, sitting up against the broken trunk and eyeballing the new arrival through a wave of nausea. He is tall and bearded, his face half-covered in shadows and shaggy hair. He has a scraggly, unkempt appearance, as though he hasn’t groomed in years. It registers that he probably hasn’t when she notices the smell coming off of him and tries not to gag. ‘Jeremy’ doesn’t appear bothered it at all.

“I brought a car with me. Let’s take her back to the mouth now.”

“You younguns are so boring. No fun at all.” Her attacker reaches for her again, grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet. The world spins around Bonnie for a second and she has to lean against him for support. He laughs.

“I guess I’m in big, big trouble. I tried to knock her out quick, but it didn’t work.”

The bearded arrival appears to scowl, but he nods in acceptance anyway. “Yeah, well, the  _ mortem regis _ resurrected my old body as it was. Give her to me so I can feed her blood.”

Bonnie gets handed over and the smell of rotted flesh and fecund dirt and old shit fills her nose. She tries not to gag when the newcomer shoves a bleeding wrist in her mouth. She tries to pull away but he holds onto her until she swallows the unwanted blood and she immediately feels better.

The effects of vampire blood are not lost to her and her eyes dart to the newcomer’s face. Again, she thinks he seems familiar, but doubt fills her.

“Say, that’s crazy. Vampire blood is some crazy shit. Our blood just hurts people,” the other man let’s that statement linger in the air. Bonnie can sense the unspoken tension rising between the two and pulls away slightly. This time, the newcomer lets her go.

“Old body or not, that ain’t  _ nefaria sanguis _ , you lying fuck.”

‘Jeremy’ suddenly launches himself at the other man, only to fall back screaming. He clutches his head and falls to his knees. It looks like he’s having an aneurism. Bonnie stares at the other man in shock. How-? Unless…

The grungy man stalks forward, pulling a small vial out of his pocket and smashing it on ‘Jeremy’s face. The smell of sulfur and hot asphalt fills the air and Bonnie’s eyes widen as the visage of her ex-boyfriend falls away, revealing an ugly, red and grey bodied... _ creature _ in it’s place. Terror fills her in a new way than before and she takes a step back from the twisted, inhumanly proportioned form, kneeling and subdued as it was before the suspected Heretic.

When the magic-wielding vamp produces a gleaming white dagger, something clicks into place for Bonnie. As she watches him gut the monster, the pieces of confusion suddenly realign into a clear picture. As she watches his face twitch in a familiar, smug way, the beard and shaggy hair disappear in her mind. As she watches him step back and turn towards her, she knows who she faces.

“Kai.”

 

* * *

 

The sound of the churning blood is soothing to his ears. Looking down at the bin, he watches the machine spin in a daze, following the path of severed hand before it falls back into the slurring soup. The whirring blood and gristle fills the warehouse with a sound similar to waves crashing.

Human slop, he likes to call it.

“Damon,” an accented voice calls from behind him and he turns to look at the arrival.

“Enzo,” he greets. “What did you find out?”

“The vampires are getting better at tracking us. They still suck at being vampires though.”

Damon stares at him unamused, before turning back to the slop. He is listening to the buzz of the machine, and beneath that, the sounds of hell. The voices haven’t quite cleared up yet.

If only trying to contact hell was a simple as making a phone call, he laments. As it was, he seemed stuck with a shitty signal.

They needed more sacrifices.

“It sounds a bit clearer today.”

Damon sighs. “It’s still not enough. Has the witch been taken in?”

“Another  _ nefaria _ was sent to retrieve her. He’s supposed to make contact in, oh,” Enzo checks his watch. “An hour ago.”

Closing his eyes in frustration, Damon lets out an angry growl. “She managed to banish him all by herself?”

“Straight up killed him, mate.”

Damon looks over at Enzo sharply. “What?”

“I know. What a spit-fire. No wonder these blokes were so enamoured. The Bennett girl killed a bloody demon, she must fuck like jackrabbit,” he pauses, considering. “All’s well, I suppose. When the dolt didn’t show up at the mouth with the girl, I sent an aura to check it out. Bennett blood all over that fucking forest. He was dead anyway.” 

Ignoring the twinge in his head, Damon leans back against the railing and looks closely at Lorenzo. “You really think she did it?”

Enzo snorts. “No. I think a bloody guardian intervened. We need to figure out who her champion is and kill the fucker fast.”

Damon sighs again. His life is so hard. Bringing about new world orders was a lot of work. So many specifications. So many interventions.

“You should retrieve her. Do what you need to do. Do  _ not _ harm the girl in anyway. Her blood is precious to our king. ”

“What about her champion?”

“Kill whoever it is. They’re not easy to make,” he pauses in consideration. “Who cared for the Bennett girl enough to return to the mortal coil for her, I wonder? Her grandmother is too old. Her father too weak. Anyone else who could is alive, I believe.”

“I’ll be sure to find out for you, mate,” the other vampire sassed, turning to leave. “I’ll bring the head back as a souvenir.”

Damon snorts and turns back to the human slop. It is quite pretty, but perhaps not thick enough. Perhaps not pained enough either. Turning to gaze at the chained up humans across from him, he smiles prettily and indicates the slop with a nod. The line of them watch him fearfully.

“Any volunteers?” 


	4. Please Give My Reflection a Break From the Face It's Seeing Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Panic attacks and a mildly graphic depiction of infanticide - just a reminder, but this fic is rated mature/explicit for stuff other than just smut (which is, you know, still happening because it’s me) and it's about demons, so you know what you’re getting yourself into. There are likely going to be potential triggers, which I will address as tastefully as possible. So please don’t try to shame me for your choice of reading anyway (no one has, but things are about to get darker, so this is my PSA).
> 
> NOTES: Title from the song “Consideration” by Rihanna ft SZA. Kai’s mark is a small tattoo I have. I got it as a reminder that I got a second chance to live and not to waste it. When I was looking for something to mark him, I realized my ouroboros sun probably conveys my theme of redemption best. I stg I wasn’t being egotistical. The Harpe brothers are two of America’s first serial killers - I’m talking colonial era shit, fam. Necronomicon is a construct of H.P. Lovecraft’s imagination. A symptom of schizophrenia is a disconnect to reality, sometimes stemming from a strong belief in a delusion. This is not meant to offend anyone. Also, you’d be surprised at the amount of homeless people who have been diagnosed with this particular psychosis - much higher than it should be. Nefaria sanguis/sanguinem is bad Latin, both are nominative singular except when they’re not (nefaria can be either singular or plural lol, but it changes genders when it changes numbers. sanguinem is nominative plural) and their genders never match. I really didn’t feel like figuring out how to decline the terms in context of mixed language, bc I’m a lazy ass, so it is always the subject, lol. It is interchangeable for both what demons have (evil blood) which makes them what they are (demons). Mortem rex/regis is also bad Latin meaning king of death. I try to slightly base that one on context, so when the demon king is being directly addressed rex (vocative, looks like nominative, but I’m using it strictly as a vocation) is used, otherwise they are regis. It’s not all encompassing but again, I don’t feel like trying to decline six different forms to match one language to the context of another bc I am lazy.

**_“And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister's story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.”_ **

**-Erin Morgenstern, writer and multimedia artist, excerpt from** **_“The Night Circus”_ **

 

-o0o-

 

Her mood is already in a bad spot from having woken up in creepy warehouse after getting her neck snapped, mere moments away from being placed in a body bag. Returning to the cabin only to find some grungy-looking, hobo-chic  _ asshole _ doing his level best to shove Bonnie into the backseat of what is probably a stolen car makes the last tether on Caroline’s temper snap.

She is out of the vehicle in a flash, before Stefan even manages to make it roll to a stop. The heathen goes flying from the backhand she delivers, briefly uncaring that he may not be supernatural, so pissed off that yet again someone is trying to take her best friend from her. Caroline is so over losing the people she loves.

The sound of Bonnie’s surprised gasp echoes in her ear as Caroline looks her over. She can hear the creak of wood and the thud of impact and the aggrieved moaning that emanates from the unhygienic man behind her. A part of her is delighted by the sound of him coming to his feet, the boiling need to fight trembling under her skin. Needing to kick some ass to vanquish the failures of her day, Caroline turns away from the former witch - who is covered in blood, something that  will  _ promptly _ need to be avenged - to the man staggering to his feet.

He seems vaguely familiar but the blonde has no time to address that when he rushes her, vamp speed taking her by surprise. Her senses come alive as the two exchange blows, pupils wide and limbs aggressive. He doesn’t seem invested in the impromptu fight though. He’s more interested in getting back to Bonnie and the sense of disappointment that accompanies his  indifference only angers her further.

“Leave her  _ alone, _ ” she growls, kicking him in the gut. It puts some distance between him and the other woman, Caroline firmly between them. “Get in the cabin,” she addresses Bonnie, hoping to separate them more. Her friend is stubborn though, and only backs up a little, her intent to not go anywhere clear. Caroline can feel her annoyance shift slightly, growing stronger.

The man lets out an aggravated snarl. “Get out of the way,” he snaps and suddenly, Caroline feels like her brain is on fire. She clasps her head, glaring at the man as she fights not to fall to her knees.

He starts forward, but a blast of vervain water to his back knocks the man askew, making him stumble forward. The aneurism cuts off when he loses concentration and Caroline can stand straight again.Steam rises from the back of the man’s burned neck. Stefan can be seen behind his twisted form, water gun in hand as he continues to blast the assailant with vampire repellant.

Caroline uses the distraction to scoop up a fallen branch, raising it high with the intensions to stake the man.

“Wait!”

The blonde freezes and turns to Bonnie.

“Don’t kill him! We need to question him!”

“Seriously?” Caroline scowls. But she slams the branch down over his head instead, knocking him down to his hands and knees. Then she delivers a sharp kick to his neck, hears the  _ crunch _ when the cervical vertebrae crumble beneath her boot. Unlike some people, she actually listens to her friends.

Bonnie and Stefan come to her side once the shaggy looking mess of a vampire is collapsed. As they stand over his prone form, Caroline wonders where the hell this vampire - Heretic? - bum came from, why he couldn’t compel himself a freaking shower or magically produce one, but then Bonnie speaks up.

“It’s Kai,” she utters and both vampires look at her in surprise. “He saved me from some...thing that attacked me. Then he started mumbling about some prophecy, said I needed to be kept safe.”

The green-eyed woman shakes her head and hugged herself. “I don’t know how he’s here, but I need to know what he knows.” She turns to them. “Help me out?”

Biting her lip skeptically, Caroline looks down at the man, disconcerted. What Bonnie described sounds like the ramblings of a mad man. The thought that maybe some cruel vampire turned a poor schizophrenic, homeless man for kicks crosses her mind, but as she stares down at his face, she realizes Bonnie is right - that is Kai.

Caroline stomps on his neck again for good measure.

Ignoring the looks from the other two, she sighs dramatically. “This is great. Denzo is out in the world pretending to be the Harpe brothers and now this,” she gestures at the Heretic. She turns to Bonnie. “He saved you?” she questions. She needs to know. If he did  _ anything _ to hurt Bonnie, she was going to kill him.

Bonnie nods. “Someone showed up to the cabin. I thought, I mean - he looked like Jeremy,” she whispers. “So I let him in. But it was some monster and he attacked me and chased me out into the woods. Kai saved me from....,” she trails off, eyes distant.

Caroline absorbs this information promptly, files it away to be examined later. When Bonnie doesn’t seem so shaken, she’s going to follow that line of questioning, concerned about the haunted look in her friend’s eye.

“But he didn’t hurt you?” Bonnie shakes her head at the question.

“What about that?” she indicates the still-open door on the other car.

At that, Bonnie scowls. “After he killed the monster, he said more were coming for me and that we had to leave. But it’s  _ Kai _ ,” she emphasizes. “And he wasn’t making any sense at all, so I told him to go fuck himself. That’s when he tried to kidnap me.”

Caroline breaks the Heretic’s healing neck once more.

Then she turns to Stefan. “Got any vervain rope?”

 

* * *

 

This is the second time he’s come to tied up to a chair after meeting Bonnie, Kai thinks as he blinks awake. He wonders if the dragon in his head regrets picking him now that he’s proven himself ineffective as a protector of the Bennett. It’s all quiet in his mind. He wonders if the voice in his head is real at all and if he wasn’t just resurrected by some fluke of his own magic and obsession.

“What the hell happened to Enzo’s guitar?” he can hear the object of his thoughts grousing.

Her complaints remind him that she really  _ was _ attacked. That he really did kill a demon, that  _ nefaria sanguines _ were real things, that he really did spend the last three years having his soul tortured in hell, that he really was resurrected by  _ something _ that wanted to keep Bonnie safe from the tenants of hell. His aggravated groan is as much to announce his discontent of his current situation to his captors as it is to display his general discontent for the bullshit his life - before and after his final death - turned out to be.

Besides that, he just felt gross. He really wanted to shower.

Bonnie goes quiet and he can feel her approach with his whole being, notes the other two behind her with his regular senses. Kai rolls his head back, trying to adjust to the feeling of waking up after having his neck snapped for the first time. He concludes that he doesn’t like it all, the sensation being a little too familiar to rising from the grave after being beheaded.

Finally, opening his eyes, he faces the three amigos. “Well, good morning,” he greets. There is some hesitance to his cavalier manner.

“Hi,” the guy - Stefan, he tells himself - replies after the pause. “Wanna tell us why you’re alive and why you were trying to run off with our friend?”

The direct nature of the question is pleasantly surprising. He remembers how he listened to Damon bitch and moan about how he was tired of being constantly compared to his younger brother in the prison world. He got tired of it so quickly - he wondered how Bonnie was able to remain so sympathetic. Personally, he thinks that Damon probably should have learned to measure his self-worth based on his love of himself rather than the love he garnered from other people. But whatever. Kai and love have never had a harmonious relationship.

Kai thinks he might prefer the younger Salvatore as well, but then, he’s biased.

“Wellllll,” he starts. “I can’t exactly make sense of the alive part myself, so you’ll have to wait for that. And as for Bonnie,” he looks around the cabin. It’s been cleaned up slightly, but there was still a couple of dents here and there and Bonnie was still clutching a smashed guitar.

“She did tell you she was attacked by a demon, right? I mean, that’s why you’re looking into hellmouths.”

The two vampires seem confused, but Bonnie’s eyes widen. “What do you know about that?”

He stares at her, taking time to really observe her for the first time. Her hair looks almost the same as it did in the prison, maybe a little sleeker and slightly longer, framing her pretty face in a way that makes her verdant eyes glow despite their dullness. She’s lost some weight though and she looks haggard in the way that only comes from sleeplessness, which makes Kai worry about her health. How’s she been holding up these past few years? Hasn’t anyone been looking after her? Suddenly, he feels angry and is no longer in the mood to be compliant. He takes it out on her.

“What is it you told me earlier when I was trying to tell you we needed to go someplace safe before more of those freaks showed up? To go fuck myself? Well, you can do that, too,” he snaps. Any congeniality he felt dissipated as he recalls how she once again spurned him.

She looks taken aback and Kai can admit that it’s not really her fault. For her, it’s been three years and it has been for him, too. But it’s also only been an instant that felt as long as an eternity. He hasn’t really had the chance to sort through his shiny new emotions, moods that are purely his. Maybe Kai can thank hell for curing his sociopathy in a way the merge never could, but mostly he is just so resentful of the fact that every second chance he’s ever sought, every wrong of his that he tried to right, not only got him sent to the reject pile, but on a shitty economy class flight to eternal damnation. His anger focuses itself on her.

Kai can admit it’s not really Bonnie’s fault and that he’s merely lashing out. None of Kai’s shitty life choices or their outcomes are her fault.

But he was so happy when he thought she was giving him a second chance, just like she did everyone else. The sting of her rejection is still an open wound, despite the fact that he chose to live again for her sake. So yes, she can go fuck herself and use her holier-than-thou righteousness to do it. No wonder Damon was always calling her judgemental.

“Excuse me?” she gapes at him. A part of him is delighted by her attention, by the fact that she seems to have forgotten the other two in her focus. He tells that part of him to fuck itself as well.

“ _ You’re  _ the one who tried to kidnap  _ me, _ ” she snaps. “ _ After _ you made it so I could never see my best friend again!”

“Yeah, well, I already paid for that, didn’t I?” he harps right back, glaring at the Bennett girl. “Besides, it’s not like being friends with the great Elena Gilbert was doing you any favors!”

She is incensed now and begins to go on a tirade about his crimes against humanity, but he tunes her out. Kai knows he’s not a good person. He vaguely notes the other two cast awkward glances at each other behind Bonnie’s back. Kai thinks they can fuck themselves too. Everyone and everything is full of shit, and it honestly isn’t fair how he was never, ever given a chance, not by anyone except some disembodied voice that he can only connect to in his head, like he was a crazy person. An onslaught of emotion washes over him and he feels overwhelmed. To his mortification, he feels tears sting his eyes and he slams them shut.

His stomach is clenching and his head is spinning. There is loud buzzing noise in his ear. He thinks if he still had a living heart it would be running wild, pumping so hard that it pumped itself right out of his chest, right onto the floor at Bonnie’s feet, like some fearful rabbit. She’d probably stomp all over. The image causes a choked hysterical noise to come out of him. He can’t catch his breath.

What must he look like, some gross, dirty vampire covered in swamp mud and alligator shit and his own body’s decay, having a panic attack? Probably fucking ugly. His mortification returns, jacked on steroids.

The buzzing in ear dies down when a straw is shoved in his mouth and he starts sucking on it immediately. He reaches up to grasp it, vaguely recognizes that he is no longer tied up. He’s sucking on blood bag like it’s a juice box. Stefan Salvatore is kneeling before him and patting his back, all crinkled forehead and soft, concerned eyes and wow, he’s dreamy. Kai definitely prefers him to Damon.

Stefan continues to pat his back until Kai sucks the blood bag dry, then takes it from him standing up.

“I forgot that you were a baby vampire when you died,” his voice is soft despite the bluntness of the statement. “Vampirism heightens emotions, makes them hard to deal with. It’s worse to handle when you’re hungry.”

Bonnie scoffs softly in the background, but Stefan ignores her and passes Kai another blood bag. The resurrected Heretic tears into it.

“Maybe you should take a shower first,” the Salvatore suggests. “I have some clothes you can borrow.”

The women raise their voices in protest, but Stefan isn’t cowed. Kai might be in love.

“So what, we just let him roam free? What if he tries to escape or attacks us?” Bonnie inquires impatiently.

“I won’t,” Kai speaks up for himself this time, his voice low. “I told you already, I came here to make sure you’re safe. I’m not leaving until I know you are.”

Bonnie says nothing, but she eyes him skeptically.

Stefan takes her silence as permission and gently pulls Kai to his feet, murmuring about how there is another bathroom he can use to shower. Kai ignores the way Bonnie puts as much distance between them as possible as when he passes, ignores how Caroline casually angled her body so that it was a buffer between the two former witches. He tells himself the rejection only hurts like it does because he’s not used to it yet. He tells himself to accept the shitty lie.

 

* * *

 

The other man takes a long time in the bathroom, but once he steps out, clean-shaven and smelling heavily like ivory soap, Stefan can admit he probably needed all of the time. The borrowed sweats and t-shirt fit him well enough, since they had similar heights and builds. Kai’s face is blank, not in the way that said he was hiding something, but in the way that indicated he was probably trying not to have another freak out.

Stefan is curious about the Heretic, about the man that stole Elena from his life, but then he would be since he never really got the chance to meet him. All he can remember of him is the crazed and unhinged man that crashed a wedding to turn it into a massacre. Still, he can’t help but sympathize with him and so he offers to trim the man’s hair as a way to delay the inevitable inquisition heading his way once he exits the guest bedroom.

Kai looks at him in surprise, but accepts the offer, watching him in the mirror as Stefan expertly snips and buzzes. He’s tense and wary, but it doesn’t offend the older vampire. The Salvatore notices that there is a mark on the back of Kai’s neck; it looks like a cross between a henna tattoo and a scar, because it was slightly raised. It looks like a simple, geometric sun, a circle - an ouroboros, Stefan realizes - in the center of eight evenly spaced, even length lines. Unthinkingly, he runs his fingers over it, feeling the way it was warm and bumpy against the cool vampire skin. Kai jerks away from him, and Stefan shoots his glaring reflection a chagrined smile.

Twenty minutes later, the Heretic is presentable again and Stefan thinks he looks like kid, overwhelmed by life. But Stefan became a vampire at seventeen. He can’t really judge.

The younger man helps him clean up the hair and then the two of them exit the bedroom, heading to where the storm awaits.

Just as Stefan helped clean up Kai, so have Bonnie and Caroline cleaned up the chaos of the kitchen and den. Bonnie is on the couch, trying to salvage the guitar and clearly irritated, but Caroline is making cookies, likely as a means to dispel nervous energy and as a backup in case Bonnie’s temper flares again. The small woman had a sweet tooth. Stefan bites back a smile at the way the childhood friends handle each other.

Stefan goes to Caroline’s side and after some hesitation, Kai settles down at the kitchen table. He drums his fingers against the table nervously and Stefan notices that he avoids looking at Bonnie, who is giving him a harsh, expectant glare. The Salvatore would probably wilt under that look too.

Kai takes a breath and begins to explain himself, talking about being in hell and how information about the “mortal coil” just sort of trickles in like a radio with spotty reception. He explains how he heard a voice and was resurrected once he agreed to protect Bonnie. He talks about how there is a Bennett prophecy and that the last living Bennett and the demon king, the  _ mortem regis _ , are like two keys to a lock that will unleash something very bad onto the earth. He doesn’t explain what that is, but he tells them that the Vault in the Armory  was really a sealed away hellmouth and when it was opened, that allowed the demons inside, the ones who were followers of the  _ mortem regis _ , to take it as an invitation to the mortal coil. Stefan doesn’t miss the look of guilt that flashes on Bonnie’s face before she lowers her head, falsely focused on the guitar in her lap. He tells himself to check in with her later.

Caroline prods Kai about what would happen to someone exposed to the demons and Kai replies that since the demons have a hard time staying manifested on the mortal coil for more than a few hours at most, then anyone exposed probably would have been possessed immediately. He explains that the stronger the vessel was, the longer the demons could wear them, that they had rules they had to follow and so the death of a vessel was a means of keeping them in line. They had to return to hell, to their own realm, not allowed to stay to affect the mortal coil for long.

The information fills Stefan with dread. He knows Kai is getting tired of talking from the way he shuffles. The Heretic stands and grabs at a few cookies Caroline had plated, making the blonde narrow her eyes at him.

“What happens to the people that are possessed? To their souls?” Stefan questions. Kai looks at him with something like pity. He swallows his cookie and answers.

“Humans usually die within a day or two and then they go to wherever they were gonna go anyway, I think,” he pauses, considering. “It’s too much for their bodies and minds. People who don’t die immediately and get possessed for longer tend to end up catatonic once the demon leaves them. I have no idea what happens to their souls.”

He must see the flash of pain across Stefan’s face because he adds, “But that’s just humans. I’ve never heard about supes getting possessed though, so maybe the magic in supernatural beings on the mortal coil can protect them.”

Stefan can tell that he’s holding something back. The Heretic is very bad at controlling the way he emotes. Stefan doesn’t push it, wonders if he’s being a coward or if Kai held it back because he didn’t think it was important to share.

“What about you?” Bonnie suddenly speaks up. Kai tilts his head and shuffles slightly, but doesn’t fully look at her. “The demon said you were new, called you ‘baby boy’. What did he mean?”

Kai flinches slightly, but answers almost defiantly. “ _ Nefaria sanguinem _ are born from souls that go to hell and deny rapture.” He must realize the jargon is losing them, so he clarifies.

“If you die and go to hell, your soul is tortured. If you deny rapture, the faith in the chance that you could be redeemed once you’ve endured your punishment, then you become a  _ nefaria sanguis _ , one with bad blood, a demon. They’re like the foot soldiers of the major demons like  _ mortem regis _ . The problem is, you don’t really know how long your sentence is. So those that gave up,” he falls quiet and shakes his head. “I don’t blame them. That demon probably thought that I finally denied rapture.”

The room is quiet after that, everyone absorbing this information. Stefan doesn’t really know what to make of the new information, and his sympathy for the other man grows, as does the worry he has for his brother. He feels tired. He thinks they all are, to some extent. What will his brother be like when he gets him back? Will he be himself, if a little traumatized? Or will Damon be some mindless, immortal shell of who he once was? Bonnie speaks up again, interrupting Stefan’s thoughts.

“This Bennett prophecy, what does that entail? Why did the demon say he was in trouble for making me bleed?”

Kai lets out a heavy breath. “I’m not sure.” At her glare, he defends himself. “Look, this stuff is being relayed to me by a voice in my head. I don’t know whose voice it is, although I like to call it Prof. Dragon, and Prof. Dragon doesn’t tell me everything and definitely doesn’t give a shit if I find that unfair.

“I know there’s a book. A Necronomicon of sorts, if you want to call it something.” Stefan smiles at the Lovecraft allusion. “It’s a really old, really evil grimoire. Supposedly it is a possession of the _mortem regis_ , something they had before becoming an ultimate boss-level monster in hell. This Necronomicon has the details of what the Bennett prophecy actually means and the ritual that you and the _mortem regis_ need to complete to unleash this demon apocalypse, and yes, I think your blood is probably a potent ingredient.”

He goes quiet. Stefan thinks Kai looks like he’s listening to someone, but then he realizes that  _ he is _ . It’s an odd clash of the senses. The other man looks mildly angry, then surprised and slightly chagrined, and then irritated again. Finally, he snorts and addresses the other three.

“Prof. Dragon thinks it’s a good idea to destroy the Necronomicon, but won’t tell me why. I’m tired and I want to go to bed. If we get attack in the middle of the night, I’m blaming you for not coming with me when you had the chance,” he points at Bonnie. Who flicks him off.

Stefan is mildly amused that Kai can address her properly now that he’s not being overwhelmed by the hyperemotionality that comes with being a starved baby vamp. He wonders what it is that Bonnie made Kai feel that left the Heretic so flustered.

There is a shuffle as they all move about after Kai’s obvious dismissal and stubborn refusal to continue for the night. With a start, Stefan realizes that it’s almost three in the morning. Caroline’s sidles over to him, murmurs in his ear that Bon will sleep in the guest bedroom with her and he takes the implied suggestion to volunteer to sleep in the living room with Kai. Luckily, there is a couch and a reclining armchair, although Stefan is not super excited to rest in either.

Bonnie, who looks exhausted (Stefan suspects her tired visage may have been what prompted Kai to declare a bedtime, because he certainly didn’t look sleepy), allows Caroline to tug her away for bed. After Stefan grabs some extra bedding from the linen closet, he notices Kai staring intently at a dark corner. He looks as well, but doesn’t see anything. Stefan glances back at Kai, who seems almost on the verge of attack.

“Kai?” he prods. The Heretic whips his head around, the intense glower on his face leveled at Stefan briefly before it softens. Stefan thinks the Heretic is kind of weird.

“S’up?”

Stefan displays the pile of pillows and blankets in his arms. “Couch or La-Z-Boy?”

“Oooh, La-Z-Boy, definitely.” Stefan hands him a pillow and some blankets, and says nothing about the odd interlude. He notices Kai glance once more at the corner and after the other focuses on turning the recliner into a makeshift bed, he looks himself. He sees nothing, but he feels paranoid anyway. Making himself comfortable on the couch, Stefan pretends to sleep.

 

* * *

 

A wheezing inhale accompanies the return of the aura into his body, and Enzo comes out of his chance blearily. The early morning sunlight irritates his eyes. He feels euphoric and dazed, the way he always does after he casts an aura. It was exhausting sending part of your consciousness out into the world as an astral projection. The information gathered settles in his mind and he scowls, sitting up and fixing the reclined driver’s seat in the car he borrowed somewhere when they were in Kansas.

He misses Kansas, misses the general mayhem of killing sprees. Consecrating the power of a little Kansas cemetery that humans believed to be a gateway to hell - which it wasn’t, but they believed and that empowered the land - had been great fun. Starting a project is always great fun, but seeing it through sucks.

Enzo stretches, popping the bones of his spine back into place. Then he thinks, scanning the parking lot and trying to formulate a plan of attack.

Kai Parker. Interesting. He’s never met the bloke, neither of him has, but he thinks the Heretic was a rather ingenious pick for a champion on the guardian’s part. Damon will shit a brick when Enzo brings him back the head.

He frowns. He’s not sure if he will be able to defeat the protector. Enzo is a strong  _ nefaria sanguis _ , old and having accumulated enough power to completely absorb the soul of the vampire whose body was now his own, but protectors were difficult to kill when they were mere humans. He’s never dealt with this level of supernatural shit before. The last time he roamed earth, witches and wolves and a few fish girls that are long gone now had been the only magic wielders on the mortal coil. None of this walking dead shit. Enzo has no idea how to handle a vampire protector, especially one who apparently had the ability to wield magic like a witch. The vampire body he inhabited has been able to contain him for a few months now, constantly healing itself of the damage his blood put it through. What kind of power does a vampire-witch protector wield?

Perhaps he should call Father?

The thought makes him mildly anxious. The  _ mortem regis _ didn’t like being bothered over dumb shit, but they also didn’t tolerate failure. Enzo thinks on his options, watching a pretty young woman push a stroller his way on the sidewalk. He can hear her cooing at the chubby toddler kicking in the basket, narrating the things she saw. The two were the only humans out this early. His eyes land on the baby, then widen with an idea.

Exiting the car, he is before the woman in seconds. She starts.

“Pardon me, darling, but I’m about to be very rude to you. Don’t scream” he compels. “Come with me. Bring the kid.”

Once she has followed him to the car and loaded the baby into the back seat of the car - the stroller could be split into a carseat, inventions these days were neat - he drives them all to the little motel room he’s compelled himself. He likes this body very much. It had all sorts of perks. He is amazed at how bad those bloodhound vamps are at using their abilities.

The  _ mortem regis _ may punish him for the summoning, but then again, they may not. It all depends on what they thought when Enzo explained things.

The woman sits on the bed like he orders, but she cries and clutches her child, babbling at him about something or other. Enzo ignores her, pacing and trying to work out the mechanics of how he should proceed.

The  _ mortem regis _ will need a strong body, but Enzo wants to stay on the mortal coil too. He wonders if he can turn the human woman into a vampire, if the vampire magic in his blood is enough to counteract the effects of  _ nefaria sanguis _ , or if giving it to her will just kill her. He frowns. If that happens, he will have to give up his body and leave the mortal coil. He would just take her body as is, but a summoning takes three nights to complete. Her human body would completely burn out in one, she was so spiritually weak.

Maybe he should try to turn her anyway. If it works, he can give her to the  _ mortem regis _ . He frowns harder. Fuck. He’d have to restrain her with force during the summoning then, and that poses many potential problems. He pouts, looking in the mirror. Dammit.

He likes his body, but it seems the time has come to depart.

“I lament. This is a sad day,” Enzo murmurs to himself. The woman looks at him, petrified when his attention returns to her. She has long since gone quiet, realizing he was paying her no heed. He tells her to put set down the sleeping child. Then the possessed vampire bites into his wrist and shoves the bleeding appendage in her mouth.

“Drink up,” he orders. The woman does, even when his blood obviously burns her, looking at him with glassy eyes. She starts to convulse and he pulls his wrist away and eyes the way her blistered face and neck open up. The smell of death greets him.

Disappointment washes over him. He’ll have to return to hell once he relays his info then then. Enzo turns to the baby, cooing at him.

“Sorry I killed your mummy, mate. No hard feelings,” he baby-talks, picking the boy up. Just as Enzo is about to start the summons, he catches the reflection in the mirror and turns back to the bed.

Her wounds have healed. The neck that had split open because of the acrid nature of his blood was now sealed shut. Curious, he goes to the window, pushing the curtain aside until sunlight fell on a slim bare ankle. The skin starts to hiss and crackle, so he shuts the curtain again. Immediately, it begins to heal. Joy overwhelms him, so Enzo does a quick naenae in celebration. 

“I lied, mate. Your mum’s not dead, she’s going to be my new vessel.”

He sets the kid on his mother’s still chest and leans over them until his face hovers over hers. She wakes with a gasp and he is there to steal the breath with kiss. There is a dizzy, disorienting moment where his whole perspective of the world shifts in a way it shouldn’t. His soul is in a transient state, sidling out of one body into another. Things dim out like a light switch is hit and then brightens back up immediately.

A thud sounds next to her and Gloria clutches Jason to her chest automatically as she sits up. She looks down at Enzo’s prone form, eyes open and staring at nothing. He’s catatonic without her there to animate him. Poor guy. She pouts. Gloria had really loved being Enzo too. Maybe she should swap back.

Gloria chides herself about being being so wishy-washy. It’s too soon to give up this body. The original owner still resides. Besides, it’s just a body.

Jason stirs in her arms, takes one look at her and settles down again. Warmth blooms in her chest. Her son is so cute. She nuzzles him and kisses his head. He smells yummy. Veins bloom under eyes. She could just eat him up.

Maybe a sip? She needs to fully transition anyway. Besides, he’ll lose more than a little blood in the summoning. She rips the shoulder of his shirt and nuzzles him once more, planting a kiss there. Such an adorable boy. Fangs peeled back, Gloria sinks her them into to tender flesh. She ignores the screaming in her head, pushing it down.

His cry right in her ear makes her wince, but she drags the blood out harder. He quiets, crying softly, his heartbeat beginning to slow. Gloria releases from the grip of her maw, licks the blood off his little should tenderly. He smells like pee now.

Sighing blissfully, she pulls her face away, proud of her control. She has successfully transitioned into a real vampire - all on her own! Jason stares at her tearfully, hiccuping.

“Don’t be like that, sweetie.” She kisses his fat, wet cheek. “Let’s call daddy home now.”

With that, Gloria uses her new strength to crush her son’s neck. She didn’t want him to suffer. What kind of mom would she be?


	5. I'm Running From Shadows, I'm Hoping To Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for this chapter: Friendly reminder this fic is rated M and is about demons/dark themes. “Parental” abuse. Mentions of infanticide. Straight up murder. Guilt and self-loathing, it's sorta depressing. Mildly boring bc it's a set up, imho.
> 
> NOTES: *Grendel is my #1 fave book of all time. Title from the song “Drinking and Driving” by Jhene Aiko. “Mortem rex, tu voco. Amabo te, audire me et vinire.” = “Mortem rex, I summon you. Please, hear me and come.” (I’m the one translating this Latin, may be rough.) Guardian = “the dragon” aka the voice in Kai’s head. Champion/protector = Kai. Champion is used to indicate that he was chosen by the guardian, whereas protector is simply his new job title. 
> 
> BIGGEST SHOUT OUT TO MY TUMBLR BUDDY AND NEW BETA shadowcatgirl09 WHO HAS BEEN THE REALEST! SHE’S THE REASON I’M DOING MY BEST TO SCHEDULE MORE WRITING TIME AND UPDATE MORE, LOVE HER AS MUCH AS I DO!

 

**_“When I was a child, I truly loved: Unthinking love, as calm and deep as the North Sea. But I have lived, and now I do not sleep.”_ **

**―** **John Gardner** **, American novelist and professor, excerpt from** **_“_ ** **_Grendel_ ** **_”*_ **

 

-o0o-

 

Bonnie wakes up when the sun is more westward-bound than not, feeling more refreshed than she anticipated - Caroline is already gone, her side of the bed made up. Bonnie wonders, slightly embarrassed, if she had shown any inkling of pleasure in sleep - her dreams had been incredibly pleasant. She has some hazy recollection involving a shower and multiple orgasms and assumes that her mind decided to grant her reprieve by dreaming of Enzo.

Oddly enough, she doesn’t remember his face at all.

Her good mood is dashed, however, once she makes her way into the living area after getting dressed. Malachai Parker stands in  _ her _ kitchen, cooking  _ her _ food, and chatting animatedly with Stefan and Caroline,  _ her _ friends.

Caroline chuckles at something he says, but falls quiet when she sees Bonnie, looking to the floor as if the hardwood was something interesting. At least she knows she was being a traitor. Stefan simply turns to her with a welcoming smile, asking how she slept. Bonnie’s answering scowl seems to baffle him. Kai says nothing, continuing to stir a pot of what smells like chili.

Bonnie’s stomach growls.

The Heretic finally turns to address her.

“Morning, sunshine. There’s coffee ready and chili pie for lunch and then after that, we’re leaving.”

Bonnie growls at him. “Oh?” she replies raising an eyebrow. “And who decided that?”

It’s Caroline who speaks up. “We were talking shop while you were sleeping…,” she trails off when Bonnie redirects her dirty look. “Hey, c’mon, Bon! You were attacked by a freaking  _ demon _ yesterday! We should relocate before another attack.”

Bonnie wilts slightly at the other’s pleading look. “This is my home, Care,” she counters softly, sitting at the dining table.

Kai plops a scoop of chili into a bowl almost aggressively, huffing. The action garners the younger witch’s attention and her foul mood returns. He is putting aside a bag of shredded cheese and moving on to corn chips as she addresses him.

“What?” she growls.

“Nothing,” he snaps back. The bag of corn chips crackles loudly in his hands when he opens it and begins to dump some on top of the chili. He tosses it onto the counter almost carelessly when he’s done.

“It’s obviously something,” she snarks. “Otherwise you wouldn’t still be in my place, eating my food.”

He plops a huge dollop of sour cream onto the frito pie. “This is for  _ you _ , asshole,” he mutters to himself. Her eyes narrow. Kai picks up a green onion, starts snipping at the ends of it and ignores her dirty look. “And your place is already compromised. You invited evil in, it has a free pass now,” he announces at a normal volume.

He plates the bowl and then sticks a spoon in it, shoving it at her. “The  _ nefaria sanguinem _ are all connected. They could force themselves in, but they’re like vampires in the sense that they prefer invitations.”

Bonnie looks down at the bowl of food, admitting to herself that it looked and smelled amazing. The last time she ate Kai’s food, she almost died about how good it tasted and having to hide her reactions. Then he stabbed her and she actually did almost die. Or at least thought she did. All she can remember is his shitty pager message taunting her as she came to on the grass in Portland, a new knife wound to add to her collection of Kai related scars. Bonnie glares at the bowl.

“Takes less power to attack. Let in one, let them all in,” he continues. “It’s not safe here, we have to move.”

This snaps her out of her contemplation. “We?  _ We _ don’t have to do anything. And I’m not going anywhere with you, I need to find my friends.”

“Actually,” Stefan speaks up, “Kai can help with that.” The vampire settles down next to her, tucking into his own bowl of frito pie with the works piled high. Bonnie feels disgusted and jealous at his obvious enjoyment of it. Her stomach growls again and, with great and obvious discontent, the last Bennett shoves a small spoonful into her own mouth.

It’s delicious. She’s never felt so much hatred for one person in her life.

A corn chip crunches in her mouth in an irritating manner as she gestures for Stefan to continue. To her annoyance, it’s Kai who answers, slipping into the seat across the table from her, a mug - her  _ favorite _ mug that she has to toss out now - of coffee cradled in his hands.

“Your boyfriends are demon sacks at the moment,” he states drolly. The tall man sips at the beverage, ignoring her ever present glare. “Professor Smaug would like me to destroy the Necronomicon of World Doom, which is currently in demonic possession. I let the voice in my head guide me and  _ swoosh _ -,” he spirit fingers with one hand. “Two birds with one stone, I please my boss and you get your love triangle back.”

God, she hates him. He’s so  _ annoying. _

She perks up. “And then you’re out of my life forever?” she asks saccharinely. He snorts at the tone.

“‘Fraid not, Bonster,” the nickname sends a shiver down her spine, the rest of his words drowning out.

_ “Sooo, Bonster,” Kai’s tinny voice echoes out of the camera. “I linked Elena’s life to yours.” He says it with a smile, something totally unhinged lighting his eyes, disturbing her as though he were actually there in the room before her. _

“Hello?” Kai snaps a few times and waves a hand in front of her face, stopping when Bonnie blinks up at him. “Where’d you go?”

She can’t do this. “Away from you,” she snaps pushing her chair back and stomping outside. She ignores the weight of three gazes on her back, two concerned and one she doesn’t want to think about.

 

* * *

 

Bonnie stomps away outside and seconds later, Caroline flits after her, calling out to her friend. Kai frowns down at the coffee mug in cradled between his palms, disconcerted. Everything in his body pulls him after the small woman who’s stormed off and, as much as he knows he shouldn’t, he keeps his ears peeled on her anyway, listening in on the conversation and effectively ignoring the other vampire still sitting with him.

“Bonnie!” Caroline snaps.

“What?!”

“What the hell is wrong with you? He’s trying to help!”

“He’s. A. Liar! Caroline,” the former witch’s angry voice turns pleading. “I can’t- I can’t. I can’t look at him and not see all the terrible things he’s done, I can’t not think about Elena, and Ric, and the girls and...oh God, Caroline,  _ the girls. _ ”

At this she falls quiet and Kai frowns at the following silence. He wonders what they’re doing, if they’re back at speaking in that weird eye-contact language only best friends and close siblings can understand. He hates not knowing what’s going on.

What did Bonnie mean, “the girls”?

“I’ve got to make a phone call okay?” Caroline’s quiet tone asserts. “Stick by Stefan, Bonnie, I mean it. If you go off alone, so help me, I’ll kill you myself.”

Bonnie sighs. “Fine. Tell them I said to stay safe.” The sound of two footsteps crunching away from each other sounds before the door slams open again. Kai focuses his gaze on Stefan, who watches him knowing, slowly finishing up his chili pie. He quirks a brow at the Heretic, almost daringly. Kai looks down at the dark beverage before him, as Bonnie seats herself in the living room. He sips mindlessly at the coffee and tries to ignore the awkward tension around him.

_ The girls. _ Kai feels nauseated. He’s afraid to even think about his suspicions. When he was in hell, his punishers took the forms of all the people he’d wronged, their accusations overlying the constant background noises of infantile shrieking and cooing. At the time, he thought it was supposed to be symbolic, a representation of all the innocent blood he spilt, all of his dead siblings and all of the children of the Gemini that were no more because of his selfishness. He wonders now if maybe it weren’t another shoddy frequency connecting him to the real world.

He thinks about his twin, the girl who looked so much like him, the woman who only wanted to be free. Kai wonders if he would have had a niece and a nephew, if the kids Jo might have had would have echoed their mother and uncle. The next generation, less wicked than the last.

_ Oh God, Caroline, the girls. _

The mug Kai’s holding shatters, the ceramic cutting his hand. Kai grinds his teeth down hard. He watches his blood mingle with the hot brew. He can hear Bonnie calling him an ass and Stefan’s concerned inquiries, but he is fascinated by the way the black liquid absorbs the red ichor, darkness overwhelming the blood in his veins.

_ You must have been very good to earn that, baby boy. _

Kai’s cut heals, but a thought lingers: he’s not a  _ nefaria sanguis _ but he had bad blood anyway. The chair squeals against the hardwood then clatters, Kai stalking off to get a towel.

He cleans up the table, and despite how thin and black the mixture is, all he can smell is blood.

 

* * *

 

“ _ Mortem rex, tu voco. Amabo te, audire me et vinire, _ ” Gloria prays. Her body is drenched in sweat. Enzo’s body lies before her, arms spread, votive candles set directionally by his head, feet, and hands. Another balances on the flat plane of his upper chest. The smell of bad meat fills the air, a tiny heart in her left hand and a soft skull in her right having long ago soaked her hands in blood. The iron flakes from her hands now, itchy and dry. She ignores it and continues her prayer, kneeling westward, eyes closed and a nausea wracking her small frame.

She’s close. She can feel Father gathering on just on the other side of the gate, the spiritual closeness the infant still had to immortal coil easing the path. Gloria needed only to be disciplined a little longer.

“ _ Mortem rex, tu voco. Amabo te, audire me et vinire, _ ” she repeats, again and again. Her voice is raspy after three days of repeating the invocation but alas she can hear the ticking of the clock nearing three in the morning and pushes through her weariness. Just a bit more and she can rest.

Finally, it is three a.m. and the room hushes, a new presence filling it. Gloria’s prayers die down and her eyes open, hands and gaze lowering. There is no noticeable change except for the creeping feel of power stifling the air.

Enzo’s eyes flutter open softly and immediately, Gloria puts her face to the floor, hands spread before her in subjugation. Happiness and dread fill her in equal measure.

How she has missed Father. How his potential anger terrifies her.

She can hear the rustle of Enzo - the  _ mortem regis _ \- getting to his feet. Gloria dares not peek up, biting her lip in determination to stifle her whimpering when one of those now blessed boots press none too gently on her vulnerable, slim fingers.

“What’s the meaning of this, little one? You’ve not finished your task.”

It’s odd hearing that accented voice addressing her. Not long ago, it had been hers. Now the deadpan, but almost dreamy tone sounds foreign to her ears.

“I’m sorry, Father,” she breathes. She gives no indication of the pain she feels radiating from her bloodied hands. “We are almost finished, the Bennett girl was close to capture, but...” she bites back a whine at the boot’s increased pressure. The tread grinds her fingers harshly and she can hear the soft crack of a few knuckles folding under the weight. Gloria grimaces.

“But what?” Father questions. The soft voice is deceptive. She prays to the being before her that she would not be disgraced.

“But the guardian resists. A champion has been chosen.”

The  _ mortem regis _ tsks and the boot lifts only to be slammed onto her wrist a moment later. The slender bones splinter and powder under the sudden force immediately, and it takes everything in Gloria to bite back the scream that wants to jump out of her throat.

“Why didn’t you kill it?”

Blinking back the tears that pooled in her wide eyes, she answers. “It’s not a normal champion, Father. Times are different. He has an undead body like ours, but manages to wield it’s magic in a way that we cannot. This doesn’t begin to account the powers he must have obtained by becoming the Bennett’s protector.”

There is a beat of silence, then the boot is lifted in favor of a hand burying itself into her hair. Father hauls Gloria to her feet then presses a harsh kiss to her forehead, power rifling through her memories like an invisible hand flicking through the pages of a photo album. It’s not painful, but it’s unpleasant and she closes her eyes against the assault. Father pulls his lips away from her forehead and Gloria finally looks up at Enzo’s handsome face, a twinge of sadness hitting her.

Father must feel it, because Enzo smirks. “Awfully attached, are we, little one?”

Her eyes widen and she looks away. “Forgive me, Father,” she demures.

The  _ mortem regis _ scoffs. “Clean up your mess,” he orders. “We have many objectives to achieve in a very short amount of time.” Ignoring the pain of her healing bones, the  _ nefaria sanguis _ obeys her king and gets to cleaning up Jason’s remains.

 

* * *

 

The axe hits the wood with a dull  _ thwack _ and a muffled whimper reaches Damon’s ears. The smell of piss and fear hangs heavy in the air, ripe and succulent. He pulls the blindfold up and looks down at the teenager trapped to the table. Damon frowns - he’d missed. The axe was buried a scant inch away from the boy’s meaty arm. From across the room, his mother sobs into her gag, mumbling something incoherent that Damon ignores.

Patting the wet crotch of the quarterback’s jeans, Damon smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry champ, we’ll try again. I won’t miss this time around.”

Ignoring the teen’s thrashing “no” and the sounds of his cries muffled by the gag, Damon turns to the boy’s mother.

“Now, Mrs. Miller, I know I’ll be blindfolded, but don’t think that doesn’t mean I’m not aware of you. If you don’t watch, I’ll know and I’ll kill him waayyyy more slowly than this. ‘Kay?” He smiles and winks before securing the blindfold once more. Gripping the axe, he dislodges it from the thick would table and swings it down once more.

This time Mrs. Miller’s scream is so loud, Damon almost questions if he gagged her or not. But he’d felt the warm spray and below the woman’s screeching, he can hear a wet gurgle. Wiggling the axe, he makes note of the difficulty he has now and grins. Yanking off the blind, his grin grows cheerily - his aim was really great this time. The axe had not only nailed the kid, but it sliced him right at the waist, his entrails spilling forward once Damon successfully removes the axe.

Oh, that’s inspiring.

It takes less time to kill Mrs. Miller than it did her son, with Damon no longer in a playful mood and her not bothering to put up a fight. Her glazed eyes stay glued to the image of her dead son the entire time and Damon likes that. He licks the salt from her wet cheeks before shoving his hand in her chest and yanking out her heart. It’s a familiar motion to his body.

Damon curls her body around the quarterback, positions them so that she cradles his head to her hollow chest before dropping her heart onto the open axe wound on the boy’s belly. Stepping back, Damon looks over his work with a critical eye. He adjusts the way the heart sits on the entrails before giving his approval.

He’ll call this one,  _ Mother and Child _ .

The art doesn’t hold his attention for long. For the millionth time, he wonders where the hell Enzo is and whips out his phone. It’s ringing in his ear when he feels the buzz and the hairs on his nape raise. He turns to look at the warehouse door at the same time Enzo’s voice rings out.

“Hello?” It’s melodic, the voice is the same as always. But Damon knows and he moves toward the door, sliding it open to reveal the man on the other side of the door. There’s a tiny Asian woman by his side and Damon looks between them before turning off his phone and kneeling with gritted teeth.

“My liege,” he greets smoothly. “A delightful surprise.”

Damon has to be careful now. He could curse Enzo, or whatever she was going by now, for this breach in intelligence. He hates when plans get obstructed.

 

* * *

 

Caroline hangs up with a sigh, already exhausted with the day. Between Bonnie and her ex-fiance, she was having a hard time finding a silver lining to follow.

Alaric was far from happy to be informed about his daughter's’ uncle’s resurrection. The two of them just spent the last 10 minutes arguing with each other about the Heretic - Ric wanted to take him out ASAP, but Caroline, after hearing both the siphon and Bonnie's stories and seeing the cabin, wasn't so certain that Kai was lying to anyone. If anything, she was certain he wasn't.

Regardless, Alaric was deadset against Kai learning about or coming anywhere near the twins and Caroline was hard pressed not to find a reason to agree. The two of them decided it was best to keep Josie and Lizzie secret and instead of their regularly scheduled calls, Caroline would find the time to check in whenever she could get away from their wayward uncle.

Alaric didn't like it, but he never liked anything and they were co-parents - they had to compromise a lot.

The blonde runs irritated fingers over her scalp and fluffs her hair.

Now to convince Bonnie to give Kai a chance and to leave the damn cabin. Caroline felt uneasy within the wood structure, knowing what happened and that it could easily happen again. She got chills being inside and she couldn't tell if it was some sort of lingering miasma or her imagination, nor did she care. She wanted herself, her friends - and Kai too, she guessed - as far away from the creepy atmosphere as possible.

Time to go chat with her stubborn best friend.

 

* * *

 

It's dark by the time the quartet finally leave the cabin. Kai's been hyper-agitated and on edge, looking around constantly and staring at shadows that seem just a little darker than the shadows around them. His paranoia irritates Bonnie, which in turn aggrieves Caroline. Stefan feels like pulling his hair out dealing with lot of them.

When they've finally packed the SUV, Kai insists on sitting in the back with Bonnie who laughs in his face with a sharp “No fucking way.”

“Bonnie…” the heretic sighs. Stefan watches as he pouts and gives his best puppy look, which only earns him the small woman’s scorn. Feeling bad for him, Stefan steps in.

“Hey Kai, why don't you ride shotgun and the girls can sit in the back? That way you can keep an eye out easier and Caroline can watch Bonnie's back in case something happens.”

Bonnie scowls at him, but Stefan ignores her - her moods have been between unreasonable and downright horrid lately. He thinks if she could just catch a break, get some relief, she might go back to the bubbly girl she once was. He hopes so at least, because she deserves some peace.

Kai bites his lip uneasy, but the heretic must see his options are limited because he nods. Caroline mutters something under her breath and drags Bonnie by the hand to the backseat, where the two immediately begin to whisper fiercely. Kai looks off at the treeline.

“She'll never forgive me,” he murmurs. Stefan gives him a sad smile.

“Maybe not,” he replies. “Or maybe if you just give it time and do your best, she'll come around.”

Nearly unreadable blue eyes study his face. There's something both empty and vulnerable about Kai's eyes, and it gives Stefan slight chills.

“You really think so?”

“I do. Bonnie’s not one to hold onto anger at those who no longer deserve it,” he scoffs. “Sometimes not even to those who do. Just go at her pace.”

Expression thoughtful, Kai nods. “Yeah. Okay.” He takes a breath. “Let's go. You can drive. We need to go west.”

The vampires climb into the car and to Stefan’s amusement, Kai only shoots Bonnie a passing glance before looking determinedly out the window. Stefan bites back a chuckle and drives off.

 

* * *

 

The women are sleeping in the backseat, curled blonde hair entwined with wavy brown. Kai wishes he could join them but a prickle running up his spine keeps him vigilant. He's alone in his head, no slithery voice intoning in his mind's ear, but he still feels like something is screaming at him.

Periodically, the heretic sits up and looks around, a sharp-eyed purveyor of the blackness around them before settling down. He grips his lent jeans tightly, feeling the denim fibers scratching under his nails. His jaw clenches and unclenches.

Something's coming.

“Are you okay?” Stefan asks him and even his soft voice is too much for Kai’s heightened senses. He wonders if this is a vampire thing or a back-from-the-dead-as-heaven’s-whipping-boy thing. The nighttime seems as clear as if the sun were up.

He feels mildly high. The influx of information is overwhelming.

Kai shrugs at Stefan’s question, then sits up again.

“Seriously, will you stop? That's distra-”

A tire or three pops.

The car skids and Stefan jerks the wheel about, trying to straighten out the swerving vehicle.

The girls startle awake, alarmed questions coming from their mouths.

Kai rips through the small space over the console, pushing Bonnie's body down and under his.

Something sharp rips its way through his temple, drills right into his brain, and Kai’s world is no longer so lit up and clear.

In fact, it goes dark again.


	6. Chapter Five: Don't Fret, Precious, I'm Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Title from the song “Count Bodies like Sheep” by A Perfect Circle. Mild violence. Drug use. Sexual Content. Gratuitous Nirvana. Actual plot progression - may be confusing now, but will soon be cleared up.

 

**_“The cost of freedom is always high, but Americans have always paid it. And one path we shall never choose, and that is the path of surrender, or submission.”_ **

**-John F. Kennedy, former president of the United States**

 

-o0o-

 

It’s not something he thought about. One minute, he’s a paranoid mess from the attack he  _ knew _ was coming, and the next he’s dive-bombing to protect Bonnie from a bullet he intuited was heading for her skull. And the moment after that?

Is exactly like Kai’s back in hell.

 

* * *

 

**October 1991**

_ Joshua says no and it comes as no honest surprise to Kai because Joshua is the biggest asshole on the planet. The coven is very influential in the witch world, they're needed to help prepare for the Samhain ceremony, blah, blah, blah, so of course the answer is no. When Jo tries to protest, she gets cut off with a sharp authoritarian retort and her jaw clenches in an effort to bite back her own angry response. It doesn't really bother the siphon to see his twin’s crestfallen face, but it does bother him to not be the one to put it there. _

_ They're from a family of witches though and so all of their problems are easily solved, either magically or mundanely. _

_ In this case, it takes Kai trading a few too many grams of the quality marijuana grown in the greenhouse for two tickets and some discretion. On the twenty-ninth, he sneaks into his sister's room and somehow convinces miss goody-two-shoes to play along and make shadow puppets to take their place at home while they sneak off in their shared ‘89 Taurus. _

_ “Where the hell are we going?” Jo demands once they’re on the road. Even playing along, she was a killjoy. _

_ Kai sighs dramatically and considers ignoring her. But he knows the whining will just get worse, so he answers with a clipped, “Fox Theater.” _

_ It takes a second before Jo’s eyes widens and she sits up abruptly. _

_ “Are you serious?” There's no hiding the excitement in her voice. Kai just points to the glove compartment. Seconds later, he's pushing a squealing Jo off of him, two Nirvana tickets in her hands while she does her best to make them crash. _

_ “Shut the fuck up,” he snips. So annoying. Not for the first time, he thinks should have brought Angela Thurston instead of Jo. At least he’d have gotten laid by the end of the night. Angie was a freak. And easy. And hungry for his dick since he kept playing keep away with her. _

_ But she was also vapid and annoying, while Jo, at least, was someone he could have fun and be himself with. No bullshit front to put on. _

_ Jo just grins at him. “Thanks, Kai,” she coos. _

_ The lot is packed even though they arrived kind of early. Girls in skimpy costumes, slutty fairies and witches, and hello there little mermaid, have him rethinking his no sex lamentations. He gets several numbers while waiting before he and Jo finally get carded, trade their tickets for armbands and go inside. _

_ Their seats are middle row, but it's cool. The amphitheater already smells dank and is hazy with smoke and Kai lights his own blunt to share with his sister. Three girls in leopard print take the seats in front of them, a cute ginger whose red hair gleams like fire and two strikingly pretty black girls both with light eyes and delicately similar features that has Kai thinking they’re sisters. One has on a light blond wig and the other has her hair in a short afro. _

_ Kai peruses their costumes and it clicks. “Are you Pussycats?” he greets. _

_ The girl with the blonde wig tenses slightly and turns to face them, a defensive line to her posture, but Kai barrels on. _

_ “Like the Archie comics?” _

_ ‘Melody’ relaxes and her friends’ happy reactions put her at ease, especially when Kai shares his bud. Before long, Kai and Jo are toking with Josie and the Pussycats and the girl band click with Jo. It takes no time for the four of them to become giggly and loose. Melody’s belly ring keeps catching his attention where it shines against smooth brown skin and he can't shake the memory of her defiant stance, the flash of spirit drawing him like a beacon. She notices, but says nothing about how the weird white boy can't keep his eyes off her. _

_ He has the absurd urge to lick the glinting silver moon, but the lights dim and cheers go up all round. Someone behind him splashes Kai with beer, but the weed has mellowed him out too much to retaliate. _

_ Mudhoney comes on and they're enjoyable, THC and guitar riffs loosening him up, but then the crowd has to suffer through Sprinkler and he's less psyched. _

_ Finally, finally, finally an electric hush covers the crowd and it tingles through Kai. This is what he came for: grunge and sex and pure fucking adrenaline. _

_ Music is a kind of magic in itself, the different sound waves soaking into his body, into every body around, the thousands of bodies dancing and singing and banging and screaming along with the greatest fucking band of his youth. Kai swears he can siphon the crowd of mundanes, that the absolute emotion and adulation is enough to make their energy into something useful. He's so high on the vibes that he lets Jo piggyback him through the first few songs before two of her new kitty friends offer her some pilfered beers and pull her away. _

_ Melody turns around and leans over then, green eyes glinting like the cat she’s costumed as. Lips press to the spot behind his ear near the end of Floyd the Barber.  _

_ “Your girlfriend doesn't mind you looking?” she murmurs against the canal. Kai shakes his head, pressing the cartilage against her warm mouth and she nibbles the lobe. _

_ “Jo’s my twin,” he informs the Pussycat. She grins in triumph against his ear just as the opening chords of Smells Like Teen Spirit thrill the air. _

_ Kurt Cobain serenades her crude suggestion into his brain like lube and Kai laughs, pulling her over the seats so she can press against the front of him and dance. Hugging her back, they sway together, Kai fiddling with her gleaming navel piercing. She's positively glowing with energy as she glides one hand into his shorts and uses the other to guide his lower. Kai tucks his chin on her shoulder, and closes his eyes and sneaks his fingers behind the band of her panties. She smells like coconut and rock-n-roll and CK One. _

_ Melody’s small hand is warm on his dick and a little damp from the accumulated humidity, but her core is hot around his digits. He fingerfucks her to the same beat Dave Grohl’s drumming resets his heartbeat to, doesn't slack in paying homage to her clit as Cobain growls. His fingers shred her body like Krist Novoselic shreds the bass and the girl in his arms goes pliant, his hand growing damp when rough ministrations make her shudder. _

_ Her own motions have slowed, but Kai still feels good when screams of “a denial!” fill the air, Cobain backed up by an audience gone fucking ballistic. She tries to pick back up and return the favor, but he stops her because Kai’s orgasms are wetter than hers and he’s actually good. Kai’s so good with just a hot girl pressed against him, her juices coating his fingers, Mary-Jane and good music clouding his brain. His body feels like it's floating. _

_ He moves his fingers from one set of full lips to the other, painting her pretty mouth with her own pleasure. She licks her lips, leaning back against him, short enough so that the top of her head rests on his shoulder. She's looking up at the side of his face while he sings along to About a Girl, body liquid from clashing hormones. Kai thinks he has a weakness for eyes like hers, a green so bright and rare against her tan flesh. _

_ They keep swaying through the rest of the songs, hands in safe places now, his on her hips and hers holding them there. Every now and then she brushes against his still half-hard cock in question, but he shakes his head each time. _

_ Kai's good. _

 

* * *

 

**July 2016**

It takes Bonnie a moment to realize that the scream filling the air is ripping itself from her throat, but when she does, she strangles the sound off. The warmth of Kai’s bloody grey matter is splattered all over her face and the horrified feeling she’s immersed in is overwhelming.

She should be used to violence, she really should be. With her lifestyle of being the loyal magic soldier, she should be unfazed. But she’s never really worn a coating of blood that wasn’t her own, always having been sheltered from that particular horror by her friends who were more than willing to get their hands dirty. The closest she had come was after receiving the Huntress mark, but most of that blood splatter had been in her head or was remembered with a distant haziness. Even Jeremy, back when he chopped off that hybrid’s head, before his Hunter’s mark appeared, had known first-hand what murder really was.

Bonnie had always had her magic to provide some distance.

So she’s unsure how to act or feel now, given that Kai just literally took  _ a bullet to the brain _ for her.

His heavy form is still slumped over her, shielding her from the chaos she can hear erupting around them. There’s the sound of creaking metal and the temperature suddenly rises, warm night air rushing into the air conditioned car. Bonnie’s eyes are wide, breaths coming in pants now that she’s cut off her own shrieking. Her heartbeat could probably outpace a hummingbird’s.

A woman’s strong voice commands, “Kill them! Take the Bennett out, make sure she can’t fight back.”

A snarl she knows belongs to Caroline fills the air, the sounds of a fight erupting prompting her to try and move Kai’s ridiculously hefty form. His body just seems to cling to her, too fucking heavy to actually push off and when the hell had his skinny ass gotten so dense? Ridiculously, she thinks of a diner and fries and Kai’s scruffy face and broadened shoulders as he teased  _ I’ll go if you go _ . But that was neither here nor there because now all that accumulated mass was just dead weight ( _ Bazinga _ , her hysterical mind supplied) holding her down at a really awkward angle and keeping her from helping her friends to fight and escape.

“Fat,” she grunts, trying to shove him off. “Ass!”

“Brat,” he grunts back in her ear, his hand pushing her head back down when another shrill yelp escapes her mouth. Shell-shocked by his Lazarus moment, Bonnie complies with the gentle force of his hand keeping her head pressed closed to his chest. One of his rings snags her hair when he snaps at Caroline to get back in the car.

“Invisique!” he snarls. The spell vibrates through his torso and the ear Bonnie has on it.

“Grab your shit, we need to go!” he commands. He lets Bonnie up, but keeps a tight grip on her wrist when he reaches past her to the back to grab a backpack and throw it in her lap. He reaches again to snag a duffel before towing her out of the car. Bonnie takes the chance to look back while Kai is busy griping at Stefan and Caroline to  _ hurry the fuck up jeez, I will leave you!  _ while the prettier blonde gripes back at him to shut up.

Seven women stand tall on the other side of the SUV, and Bonnie can easily make them out through the ripped out back door on Caroline’s side. Their hands are linked and they appear to be casting a spell and Bonnie might not have her magic, but she can always recognize the way it electrifies the air. Something sinister pricks her senses and the little hairs on her arms rise. She has no time to analyze it though before Kai is pulling her along, two spells leaving his mouth in rapid succession and then the SUV is suddenly in flames and the night is blurring by.

She hadn’t even realized that Kai had picked her up or that the three vampires were running at breakneck speed, too busy thinking that those were witches. A coven. That knew her and wanted to kill her and why? What had she done - was this because of the stupid prophecy? Bonnie had doubted the validity of it since the Heretic shared the information, only willing to put some stock into it because some monster - some  _ demon _ \- wearing her ex’s face had tried to rape and beat her just hours before Kai divulged his impossible tale. And now this. Witches Bonnie didn't know who were awfully invested in her death. Who were they?

 

* * *

 

There are is a craft to safeguarding one's mind, an absolute deluge of artistic skill required to make it look like you weren’t doing what you were doing. Lucky for Damon, he was virtuoso in many art forms, deception amongst them. Shielding his privacy from the  _ mortem regis  _ required him to be.

It helps that on the outside, their intentions differ not all. The death king needed the earth consecrated in blood and fear, as did Damon’s liege and Damon was so old that he tasted no different from Enzo’s...or Gladys or Glenda, whatever-she-went-by-now’s ilk.

_ Mortem regis _ takes a look around the gory warehouse.

“My, my how you’ve kept yourself busy. All this for the return?”

“I thought we’d have to summon you as well,” Damon supplies. “Don’t you need to be in full form this to work?”

Enzo smiles at the bloodied artwork before him. “Little Gloria did jump the gun,” he answers Damon’s implied question. “So you are correct in that the majority of my power is still unawakened.”

Turning his grin to Damon - and  _ Jesus _ that was creepy in a way it wasn’t when Gloria was piloting that body - he continues. “Not worry, child, bring me the Bennett girl and I’ll be back at full capacity soon enough.”

“Alpha and omega,” Damon murmurs in response, mostly to himself. The  _ mortem regis _ nods anyway.

“Precisely,” he says. He moves closer to Damon. “Now, show me the all the beautiful art you’ve prepared. I’d like to see how well you’ve consecrated the land for me.”

 

* * *

 

He had snapped into action on pure instinct, the drive to get Bonnie away from all the malicious intent souring the air pushing him. It scraped at his skull’s walls like a naughty kitten.  _ Go, go, go!  _ it had urged.  _ Keep her safe _ . It was indistinguishable if it had been the dragon’s voice or his own wailing the words.

They're all away now, walking by the side of the road with their bags (in Caroline’s case a trunk) hitchhiking for a ride. Thumb out, he half-considers just throwing himself at a car instead of trying to flag one down. Maybe test how far this unkillable thing went.

Sheesh, he's rattled.  _ Shook _ , like he’d heard on the radio on the high-speed drive from Texas. The dream - memory - he had experienced in those brief seconds when he'd been dead again wasn't like recollection, it was like reliving. He was nineteen again and rocking out to Nirvana live. He was nineteen and getting off a pretty girl and fuck if it's not painfully obvious to him now that he's got a type.

It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been shot in the head: he used to get so bored in ‘94 that he would spend days with a pistol in his hand and a box full of bullets at his side, tallying up how many he could go through before the next eclipse. Eclipse to eclipse, he'd once made it to fifty-four before stopping. By the last bullet, his head was feeling like syncopated Jell-O as it took him longer and longer to come back.

Sometimes he still wonders if he'd kept going if he wouldn't have come back at all.

So yeah...that gunshot to the head wasn't wasn't his first. It was the third time he's died since escaping any and all prison worlds and the seven thousand twenty-sixth time total. But he'd just bounced back so fast, rolled it off like water, freaky dream shit attached, that it's all caught up to him now and he's losing his shit. It wasn’t at all like the other times he died except one, and that’s impossible because he was  _ here _ , alive, and not in hell.

Dying was old hat to Kai and yet he’s still holding back tremors, still keeping a full blown freak out at bay and there's no Luke to blame it on this time.

It's just him, but he can't fall apart. They need a ride. The scouring spell he'd used on the car was powerful -something the dragon dropped in his mind - but he still burned it for good measure. They can’t use magic to port away so close to a coven, or they risk running the chance that the witches tracing the magical signature to their destination. The best Kai can do is block location spells until he can get the items to make anti-magic and anti-demon talismans for everyone. Kai needs to get them all to safety, to a singular location to put up wards to hold off those witches.

_ Astraya. _

The word filters in his head like a dirty word, not spoken or thought exactly, but definitely not something he knew himself. The Astraya. An ancient, demon-worshiping coven.

That's the part that had him confused. Why then, if they were devil worshipers, did they want Bonnie dead? Bon had to be a  _ living _ sacrifice, that much Kai knew, so wouldn't killing her be in disobedience to their masters?

Kai's head hurts. He curses the next car the drives past the quartet, a little one that would give all the passengers bad gas. Karma was a dick and his name was Kai.

Bonnie is giving him a disapproving look, the first expression aside from shock she's had in the last half hour. Part of him is angry, so furious and he wants to take it out on her because it's her fault. She  _ had _ to be a Bennett. She  _ had _ to be the last surviving one. She just  _ had _ to have gone and made him do the thing and so he just  _ had _ to say yes to protecting her and her line.

She hates him and all he wants, what his entire body is screaming at him to do, is to make her and all her future descendants safe. It's a bitter fucking pill to swallow.

“What?” he snaps at the green-eyed beauty. His mind supplants the girl in his memory for Bonnie. Bonnie in his arms as she shuddered through an orgasm he'd given her at a concert. Bonnie's small hand on his length. It further darkens Kai’s mood. Kai wants to fight and even though all his instincts seek to keep her safe, they don't stop him from antagonizing her. It's a relief that he still has some freedom from the contract he's bound himself to.

Bonnie scowls. “I didn’t say anything to you.”

“Then stop staring at me like that.”

She makes a half-aborted what-the-fuck shrug. “Like what?!”

“That!”

“I didn’t  _ do _ anything!”

“Hey, guys,” Stefan calls, catching their attention. It takes a second for Kai to realize that he and Bonnie have stopped trekking to get in each other’s faces and gripe at each other, and that Stefan and Caroline are both standing by a stopped pick-up truck, looking at them in amusement.

And almighty fucks above, so is the human who stopped to pick up four down-on-their luck hitchhikers.

“We, uh,” Caroline coughs clearly holding back a laugh. “We found a kind soul. He knows a nearby motel, said he’d drop us all off.”

“Oh,” Bonnie says, clearly embarrassed. “Well, thank you.”

“No problem,” the guy chuckles. He’s a cheery-looking older man, probably about ten or so years older than Kai’s real age. “My wife and I used to bicker like that when we were young.”

“No, no we’re not -”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead -”

Both former witches stop to glare at each other. The old guy full-on laughs.

“C’mon and climb in,” he invites. “At least I’ll be entertained.”

Kai thinks with morbid satisfaction that the old man is far too kind for his own good. Even if three of them hadn’t been blood-sucking monsters, letting four strange hitchhikers climb into your truck is asking to get mugged.

Caroline and Bonnie ride in the cabin while Stefan and Kai volunteer to ride in the back with their stuff.

Stefan gives Kai a friendly smile once they’re settled and the truck takes off. He opens his mouth, but Kai holds up a finger.

“Shut up.”

“But I-”

“Just no.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Seriously, shut up.”

“Okay.” Stefan is full-on laughing at him, but Kai decides to ignore him. Settling back against Caroline’s enormous trunk (like, damn girl, really?), he folds his arms and closes his eyes. Ignoring Stefan’s sporadic snickers, he decides to concentrate on keeping them blocked from the Astraya and not let thoughts of Bonnie bother him for the rest of the night.

Admittedly, it was kind of funny.

 

* * *

 

Tia, The Speaker, opens her eyes and looks around the dark alter room. The room is hazy with incense smoke and smells faintly of mugwort and lavender. On either side of her, her sisters also come out of their trances and drop her hands and each others, breaking their casting circle. All three triplets take a collective breath to gather themselves.

“They’ve failed,” Alma, The Seer, says, her pretty brows furrowing over eyes scarred shut that did nothing ruin her overall beauty. Hati, The Listener, watching her and nods her affirmation.

“We did not expect the presence of a champion,” Hati soothes in perfect pitch, despite the ears that have been sealed shut by scar tissue. “But we are aware now, and can thus amend our methods.”

_ We should send a Hound _ , Tia advises. The scarring around her throat is not so easily overcome physically, but she has never had problems communicating.

Two faces identical to her own turn her way. The three raven-haired triplets are the high priestesses of the Astraya coven, having come to power nearly fifty years before after surviving their trials, as was tradition. In power they will stay until another trio survives theirs, leaving the triplets looking no older than they did when they first undertook the trial at nineteen. The likelihood of another triumvirate arising anytime soon was low, however - it was a trying time for the coven.

The Bennett prophecy was upon them and as gatekeepers, their coven is responsible for stopping it. Already, the death king walks among them, threatening to destroy order. If that beast gets to the Bennett girl before the Astraya could guide her to the next life, the world was done for.

“Such drastic measures?” Alma questions, the moroseness in her voice heavy. “That poor girl deserves a kinder death.”

“I agree with Tia,” Hati counters. “It’s unwarranted to send a Bennett off at the hands of a Hound, but I fear that may be the only way to counter a champion.”

_ Why on earth would the guardians provide the girl a champion? _ Tia wonders, barely registering that she’s still projecting.

“Who can understand the ways of Behemoths?” Alma sighs. “We are not aligned with the guardians. It’s not our duty to make sure  _ those _ Behemoths upkeep their side of the order.”

“Surely, they don’t wish for the death king to have his way,” Hati counters. “That sort of chaos is detrimental to all sides of the order, no matter what kind of Behemoth is involved.”

_ It doesn’t matter why they want her alive.  _ Tia intervenes before they could break into another philosophical debate about demons and angels or whatever names the warring Behemoths went by.  _ Whether she dies or progresses her line, the death king is here. The fastest and surest solution to stop him is to kill her. _

“We have eyes on his grimoire,” Hati speaks up. “He needs that as well. So long as we keep the  _ mortem regis _ from getting his hands on both lock and key, he cannot open a sealed door.”

“But we don’t  _ have _ his grimoire,” Alma counters. “I still say we should take possession of it and try to give the Bennett girl a kinder death than one at the hands of a  _ Hound _ .”

_ I find it distasteful as well, sister, _ Tia argues.  _ But the facts remain: the death king walks the earth and cannot approach the hellmouth at the Armory, as it is Cade’s territory. The grimoire is safe with our master. And the girl...she needs to die. We can’t be merciful. _

Alma sniffs. “Distasteful indeed.” Both other sisters hear the resignation in her voice.

They will summon a Hound.

 

* * *

 

Kai compels the old man for good measure under three disapproving stares, but he was trying to keep them alive while they tried to hold onto their goody-goody images. He waves off the good Samaritan with a smile as he drives off, then turns back to the remainder of the Mystic Falls Gang  that were frowning at him.

“So,” he rubs his hands together with a grin. “Stefan and Caroline you’ll be in one room, and Bonnie, you’ll be -”

“No,” Bonnie interjects. Kai frowns.

“It’s non-negotiable.”

“I’m not sleeping alone in room with you,” Bonnie snaps. “I’ll bunk with Caroline.”

“What’s Caroline gonna do if a demon manages to breech the wards? Or against one of the witches from earlier?”

Caroline looks offended and on the verge of interrupting, but Kai powers on. “You’re rooming with me. Besides, I’m sure the lovebirds would love to play out some seedy motel fantasies that they can’t exactly fulfill if you’re always third-wheeling.”

Caroline definitely looks offended and a little red in the face. Stefan’s pinching the bridge of his nose and Bonnie sputters.

“I-I...ugh! Fine! But if you do anything weird, Kai, I swear, I’ll make you regret it.”

“I’m going to sleep as soon as I put the wards up, don’t flatter yourself,” Kai semi-bluffs. He wasn’t going to do anything weird. But she wasn’t exactly flattering herself since she was right about his thing for her, and judging by her expression, she was mentally saying  _ yeah, right _ .

Still, Kai isn’t some untoward beast. He’s affronted that Bonnie keeps acting like he’ll jump her the second they’re alone. Even in the prison world, they had their civil moments. Her behavior after the prison world, while definitely earned, was weirdly aggressive and the fact that she kept on with that degree of attitude now was just odd. Maybe he should be the one worried about getting jumped when they were alone.

“Right, then,” she sniffs. Bonnie takes a key card from Stefan, turns on her heels, and begins to walk off with a disgruntled air. “You get the floor,” she calls over her shoulder when she’s far enough.

“There are two beds!” he yells back. “And take this with you!” He throws a pouch of black salt at her that she catches and puts in her pocket with a dramatic flair. Then he turns back to Stefan and Caroline, who are once more stifling their amusement. “Shut up. Come on, I have to ward your room.”

After he scribbles demon-warding seals on the the walls and door with a pencil (“Who cares Caroline? We paid in cash, not credit, what are they gonna do?”) then gives a each of them a satchel of black salt, he emphasizes that they  _ really do _ need to put salt lines around the entrance points when he leaves (“Yes, Caroline, windows too, do thieves care how they break and enter? Neither do demo- it doesn’t matter if it leaves a mess, God girl, what is management  _ gonna do? _ ”) before grabbing his borrowed backpack and leaving in a huff. He feels antsy to get back to Bonnie ASAP.

“Enjoy the alone time I got you,” he snips one last time at Caroline before he’s shut out for the night, ignoring her flashing middle finger. “ _ After _ you salt the windows and door.”

Outside his own room, he fiddles by the door for a moment, uncharacteristic nerves stalling him. He can hear Bonnie puttering around inside, getting ready, recognizes her particular breathing pattern and light footsteps.

More than that though, he can feel her. He felt her when he was in Steroline’s room, acutely aware that her general direction was unmoving. Now in her vicinity, he feels that pull more intensely. He feels like a compass needle and she was his north pole. There was an intense need to be by her side or at least close enough to easily get to her if need be. Briefly he wonders how this feeling would fair if she were to die. Would it go away, like it never was? Would he be like a needle in a broken compass, spinning aimlessly?

Kai hadn’t denied rapture in hell, but rapture had been denied to him. He’s deathly afraid that if he fails, he’ll become one of the twisted  _ nefaria sanguinem _ . A monstrous demon. So Bonnie, she has to live long and prosper, otherwise Kai’s fucked.

The door swings open and speak of the devil, pun intended. Bonnie squints at him, looking cozy and kind of hot in a huge Mystic Falls Timberwolves t-shirt that resembles the one he stole after Elena burned him.

“What are you doing?” she inquires suspiciously. Kai holds up his backpack.

“Thinking,” he says. “And waiting for you to finish so didn’t walk in on anything scandalous.”

“In your dreams,” she mutters, stepping back into the air conditioned room. “I got ready in the bathroom and locked you out.”

Kai smiles at the prospect, but doesn’t mention he’s a magic-eating vampire so her precautions were useless if he really wanted in. He follows her inside but says nothing, trying to avoid a fight. He pulls out his pencil and a vial of oil instead. Bonnie watches him curiously as he draws the sigils and seals them with the oil. He can tell the moment the witch in her wins out. He can hear her sniffing.

“Bergamont and pine and,” she looks at the vial of oil. “Bay leaves. You’re a little paranoid.”

“Vervain as well,” he replies, glancing at her quickly. “Your leech buddies are possessed too, remember.”

Bonnie looks a little crest-fallen at the reminder.

“These sigils got dropped in my head when I was in hell,” he supplies neutrally.  “There was kind of an information overload near the end when I started listening to Professor Dragon. I’d never come across something like this before. You?”

Bonnie shakes her head. “It’s new to me,” she hesitates. “Did this ‘dragon’ teach you magic.”

Kai nods. “It’s definitely weird...it’s like the kind of magic I don’t think I’d be able to use if I wasn’t a zombie. Like it’s from some other plane of existence,” he murmurs. The sudden civility is nice and he can use it as a soundboard. “I think you have to have touched or been in that other plane of existence to use it.”

Bonnie’s brow furrows. “Then why can’t I? Or other witches who died?”

The Heretic stops scribbling and thinks. “Most supernaturals went to the Other Side when it was up. Or ancestral planes. They didn’t go to heaven or hell or whatever you want to call where I went. Maybe that’s why? They were inaccessible to the dragon because our kind tends to do their own thing.”

Bonnie frowns, maybe in consideration of his words or maybe because of the fraternity he’d placed upon them. She doesn’t really specify with her next question.

“Why do you call it a dragon? Most people call hearing a voice in their head psychosis.”

“Bonnie Bennett,” he gasps dramatically. “Are you discriminating the differently abled? Mental illness is a serious medical issue that affects millions of Americans and as someone with a cluster B psychopathology, I’m offended by your insensitivity.”

He turns in time to catch her eye roll and tsks at Bonnie, putting the pencil and closed vial back in his bag. It takes him by surprise to see the lack of space between them and Bonnie must notice it too, because she shuffles back a little. She’s uncomfortable, so Kai just shrugs and answers her question.

“I just thought it sounded cool. I’m not about to call it the voice of god or whatever, being a blasphemer and all.”

“A blasphemer?” Bonnie’s brow crinkles again as she gives him space to move past her. He starts to salt the windows - he needs to make more black salt soon - and replies.

“Witchcraft is blasphemy. You’re going to hell too, young lady.”

Bonnie scoffs. Kai finishes the salting and stretches. He tugs off his shirt.

“What the fuck?!” Bonnie screeches. Kai gives her casual look and undoes the front of his jeans. The speed at which Bonnie backs away is almost vampire-like and pretty comical. Kai has to fight to keep his face neutral as he shucks his pants and steps out of them. Bonnie slaps her hands over her eyes, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“What’s up?” he asks, faux innocent. Bonnie growls at him.

“You know! You ass!”

Kai doesn’t bother not laughing now, just grabs his toothbrush and toothpaste and heads to the bathroom. Before he shuts the door, he can’t resist teasing.

“Get some sleep, Bon. Your ever faithful champion will protect you.”

 

* * *

 

Damon sighs watching the motel from his car. Not the blue American muscle compensation his host was so obsessed with, but an inconspicuous silver sedan, nothing really stand-out. Perfect for a stake out.

Honestly, he couldn’t stand being around the  _ mortem regis _ any longer. He felt like his skin was going to explode and his guts would go splattering all over his hard work and then the ground wouldn’t be able to be consecrated because it was all covered with impure vampire guts.

Fuck that. Instead of becoming a vampire-shaped bomb, he decided to take the long drive to some seedy motel, looking for the particular one that their little spies saw the last Bennett go to.

He’s not sure if he’d be able to go through the charade any longer now that Gloria had jumped the gun and called big daddy forth from the depths of hell. He would constantly need to guard his thoughts so that the  _ mortem regis _ wouldn’t catch a stray line and decide to intervene. Damon wonders if now is the time to reveal his true hand or if he needs to play the game a bit more. Either way, he needs to ensure that there are consecrated grounds. That’s his job.

It’s easier to do that if the death king thinks Damon is doing it for him.

Damon sighs again. What a drag. Maybe he should just explode. This kind of heavy responsibility can’t be good for his complexion. Too stressful.

He settles back into the seat with a groan, cranking the seat back so he can recline.

Way too stressful.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I miss annoying troll Kai. BTW, that Nirvana concert actually did happen, but obvi I made up the details. My bad if I got anything wrong, I hadn’t been born yet.
> 
> Tell me your theories! I’m curious to see if I just left you confused or if you can see where I’m going. Next few chapters will provide clarity. I debated using characters from TO, but I don’t watch TO and I honestly don’t care enough to look it up and try to incorporate those SLs since this is mostly canon compliant. This means no (true) Mikaelson cameos, sorry if you were hoping for those. I also debated how to incorporate rewriting S8 using TVD characters and realized that if i’m going to do over the season, I’m going to have to do it utilizing my own characters who can progress the plot the way I need it to go. Just like TV writers do - look at me getting wise in my old age. So this story will have more OCs than I normally use, but I promise no bland Mary-Sues that overtake the plot. Because Bonkai is what we’re all here for, lbh.


	7. Chapter Six: I Woke Up Pissed Off Today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Title from the song "There For You" by Martin Garrix and Troye Sivan.

" **Nothing is more real than the masks we make to show each other who we are."**

**\- Christopher Barzak, author, exerpt from "** _**The Love We Share Without Knowing"** _

 

-o0o-

 

_Jo sits across from him, eyeing the pieces on the board. She moves her rook._

" _Check," she declares. Kai smiles at her, then moves his queen, the carved obsidian rock gleaming like knife. Jo frowns at the board, seeing her error._

" _Checkmate," the boy twin says, while his sister scowls down at the checkered board. "Don't take it too personally, sissy. I always win."_

_In the background, he can hear babies screaming. Probably Lucas and Olivia. Their dad was home and so were their other siblings who were old enough to look after two screaming brats, so Kai ignores the sound. Jo's frown becomes too pronounced and Kai nudges her with his foot._

" _C'mon, it's not that big of a deal. Want to rematch?"_

" _Why? 'You always win'," she mocks. The screaming gets louder, starts to grate on Kai's nerves. He twists around in his chair, looking for someone to handle the younger set of twins._

" _Are we seriously the only ones who can shut a crying baby up?" he complains._

" _Well, you'd know all about silencing children, wouldn't you?"_

_Jo's voice is different when she replies. Chilling. It freezes Kai. He doesn't want to face her, but he doesn't understand why not. His heart speeds up unreasonably. Slowly, Kai twists back to look at his sister, who's still frowning down at the chalkboard. A white veil covers her head and Kai's face twist in confusion._

_Her hair is longer, pinned up intricately. She's wearing a pretty white dress now, one that matches the veil. She looks like a bride._

_She is a bride, Kai realizes, as red begins to bloom across the front of the dress, across her abdomen. The red liquid bleeds into the fabric, staining and Kai frowns. It's going to ruin her pretty dress._

" _Sissy?" he ventures, reaching out for her. "You okay?"_

" _Don't touch me!" she snaps. "Leave them alone."_

_Kai shakes his head, frowning, confused. And then the table is gone, and it's like Kai is on the checkerboard and Jo is the angry, white queen, screaming at him from across the expanse of the battlefield as she quickly closes the distance._

" _Stay away from them! Stay away from them! STAY AWAY!"_

_And that last cry doesn't sound like Jo at all, too deep, too angry, too many voices coming from her singular, rotten throat. She's on top of him, squeezing his throat and his head feels like a PEZ dispenser, like it's about to pop off his neck. Kai's terrified, his sister's decaying skin falling on him in putrid, wet sloughs. Trying to heave her off, he can see her vocal cords moving, actually_ see  _her vocal cords as she continues to scream and choke him and shake him with uncanny strength. Kai's vision darkens._

_The last thing he hears is his twin sister's unearthly voice howling for him to stay away._

* * *

Sometimes, it really did feel like he was back in hell. If he slept too long (or died apparently), he'd have these moments where it was like he never lift the pit. Maybe he had PTSD? And like...real PTSD, not Bonnie-blames-Kai-for-the-long-held-anger-she-has PTSD. But then, maybe that was real? Maybe his was fake? Fuck if Kai knows, he hates psychiatry.

He turns to his side, eyes Bonnie across the space that separates their individual beds. The digital clock lights the dark room with a glowing red 3:21. Bonnie's completely knocked out, but that's probably only because Kai had charmed her pillow so that the lingering smell of grumpy sleeplessness would leave her. And  _that_  was weird, that he could actually smell and recognize the scent that meant she was tired. Maybe it was the result of being a Heretic. He'd have to ask Stefan (he was not going to ask Caroline) if that was a vampire thing. Maybe it was a fellow insomniac thing.

And the blood. Not one craving since the blood-bags Stefan forced on him. Kai's surprisingly not hungry, although he'd been a damn glutton his whole life. He misses the taste of food now, but any gustatory satisfaction was easily ignored or forgotten.

Bonnie shifts in her sleep and he blinks heavy eyes at her. She's pretty, even when rocking that heroin-chic, overly emaciated and exhausted look. Kai feels like a creep watching her, but whatever, it's not like she's awake to care and screech at him about it. He peruses her face again and then quietly gets out of his bed, squatting by the nightstand that separates them.

His fingertips brush her cheek, which is soft to the touch and belies the steel of the person beneath that tempting flesh. He tries to siphon and feels nothing. She really has no magic and Kai feels bad for her, because even in the prison world, when he watched her struggle to use magic, he could sense it in her like a shark smells blood in the water. Now she's hollow. She's essentially a normal young woman, which seems so wrong for someone whose blood is so sacred. An angel couldn't be so mundane.

Kai can't sort through all the information that slipped through to him. Some of it is purely incomprehensible, ancient untranslated words Kai will never understand on his own. Some of it is just gaps of information. He connected the dots best he could, explained all he can, but even Kai doesn't trust his own interpretation. It feels like he's missing something vital.

The siphon withdraws his hand when he feels her breathing rhythm change. He realizes how close his face is to hers and sighs.

"I was just checking on you. Paranoia. Keep sleeping," he murmurs. Bonnie pulls away, rolling until her back is facing him and she's curled in a fetal position. She says nothing and soon enough her breathing spaces out again. Just a brief interlude then. The simple motion stirs something in Kai, and he turns away before he has a waking nocturnal emission or an epiphany.

The siphon checks the seals, then the salt, peers out the windows with paranoid suspicion, then lies back on his bed and closes his eyes, trying to reach the sleep he had before his nightmare woke him. It stays elusive. So Kai gets up again, lies on the floor and does push up number one.

He keeps pushing until well after the sun peeks through the blinds.

* * *

Damon squints up at the peeling fabric roof of the car he stole, listening as Bonnie huffed into existence and stomped away towards her friends' room. He can also hear Kai bickering after her, asking her to keep black salt and anointing oil on her at all times and Damon nods his head in agreement. At least the champion was being dutiful. The salt muffled her existence to his kind and the  _nefaria sanguinem_  and the anointing oil was just good for protection in general. Staved off malady.

It's odd, having a body with super-senses but being unable to use them because the creature inhabiting said body was being negated by magic. Damon is sure that if he wasn't possessing this poor fool, the original Damon would have no problem hearing into the rooms of the occupants he  _wanted_  to listen in on. Not than Kyle's affair with his wife's sister Christie (Kristie? Christi? Christina? Humans were fucking weird about names, but then so were Behemoths) wasn't interesting, it just wasn't what he came for.

"Fine! Just fuck off, you creeper," Bonnie snarls. "I'm going to see Caroline."

Kai tsks at her, but falls quiet, his footsteps no longer echoing after the fleeing Bennett girl. Damon lifts himself slightly from the reclined seat, enough to peek at the duo. His eyes track Bonnie, seeing the last Bennett for himself for the first time, and he drinks in her appearance. She's smaller than he expected, although he knew from this body's memories that she was cutely short and fierce. Like a wolverine or a mongoose, just small and angry and willing to fight things much bigger than herself to survive.

His eyes than dart to the champion, also seeing him for the first time himself and not through memories. The man is tall and broad, but carries himself differently from what Damon remembers. Moreover, there's something  _off_  about him, but Damon can't quite put his finger on it. As he peruses the champion, said man stiffens and his head swivels towards Damon, who flopped back down out of sight the moment Kai twitched. Shit. He hoped Kai hadn't sensed him and wasn't curious enough to come investigate. It's been a while since he's dealt with a champion. He'd forgotten how they were like bloodhounds when it came to trespassers to the mortal coil. Which is ironic, considering what champions become if they-

A fist smashes swiftly through the driver's window, raining glass shards on Damon. That hand then comes down to grab at the lapels of his jacket and pull him through the broken window. Damon snarls and slips out of the garment once he's outside, resisting the call to battle, but again. Goddamn bloodhounds. Kai is focused on him like a heat seeking missile and this was not at all how Damon wanted this meeting to go. There's an odd expression on the champion's face, blank and determined and robotically furious. Fuck.

He has to fight back now, as Kai is slipping more and more into that infamous berserker fury champions tend to go into when they feel the need to protect their charges from an immediate threat.

"Stop," Damon pleads, blocking a punch, but losing his footing when Kai swiftly regroups and bowls him over with knee to the chest that sends Damon flying into a car three spaces over. The metal folds around his body and Damon is for once grateful he possessed this weird zombie-man and not like, a fat human politician. He groans as he pulls himself from the wreckage, eyes widening when he hears the metallic  _thud_  of a heavy body landing above him.

He ducks and rolls, narrowly avoiding the double hammer fists swinging down at his head.

"Hey!" he protests. "I just want to talk!"

Kai's not listening, the momentum of his attempted blow swinging him forward too much. The champion merely leaps forward, twisting in the air to face Damon. He's hard to track, but the vampire sees the moment Kai's feet barely touch the pavement before his body is hurtling back at Damon in a single leap.

" _Jesus_ fucking- _,_ " Damon curses, barely managing to dodge again. Kai swivels quickly, stays on Damon's ass, and the vampire wonders briefly if he's not the only one possessed.

That physicality is not vampire enhancement and it's certainly breaking the boundaries  _champion_  enhancement.  _What the fuck is this kid?_  Damon wonders.

" _Vatos,_ " Kai intones and Damon feels his body being yanked forward by an invisible force. He lands in Kai's waiting hand which squeezes tightly, a burning, draining sensation emanating from it. Damon's skin begins to turn grey and veined under the other man's touch and he pounds at the champion's arm, trying to pull himself away. It might have been inconvenient for Damon, but maybe Gloria hadn't been so foolish to summon the  _mortem_   _regis_  if this was the champion chosen to protect the last living Bennett. That fucker might be one of the few capable of stopping him.

Desperately, he meets Kai's glossed-over gaze. Perhaps it was the impending decapitation or the deprivation of oxygen, but Damon suddenly  _sees_  Kai, the off-ness about the champion he'd seen before seeming more clear. The kid was like a mosaic, like a complete picture that wasn't complete at all. It was a useless observation though, considering that Damon might die soon.

"Please stop," he wheezes. His eyes ache from popped blood vessels. "I want to help. I need to talk to you." Clenching at the champion's arm with all his might, Damon holds onto the consciousness that is rapidly leaving him. If he passes out, he's dead and his mission is failed, and the  _mortem regis_  may very well win with their fucked up plan. Kai's head tilts like an animal, as if he was hearing but not understanding Damon.

"I came- I came...talk," Damon struggles to say. "Protect...Bonnie."

His vision is completely blacked out. He's on the verge of unconscious when Kai's hand opens suddenly, dropping him. There's a shout, and Damon recognizes Stefan's voice and even though he knows it's not  _his_ feeling to feel, Damon is filled with sudden longing. Ugh, no. Safe or not, he can't do this. Damon decides it's time to pass out now.

* * *

Sometime during the night, her dreams took a turn for the gross, when Kai became the guest star of some oddly erotic nightmares. She wakes herself with a jolt and the lengthy soundtrack of Kai's soft grunts follow her to consciousness. She scowls, seeing him in the midst of what must have been his thousand-something push ups if the length of her dream was anything to go by. pauses when she rouses, looking up at her and glistening with sweat. Her thighs are embarrassingly damp and Bonnie recalls the heavy feel of his body from last night, when he shielded her - died for her - and her scowl grows more pronounced.

"Dibs on the shower," she tells him, just to be petty and have an ounce of self-control. It was Kai. Nothing at all to be excited about.

_Except you liked him once,_  a traitorous part of her thinks, flashes of captured gazes and a firm chest under her hand in 1994 before realization started to creep in.

"You okay?" Kai asks, snapping his fingers in her face. Bonnie realizes she must have been spacing out, recalling times better left forgotten. She slaps his hand away and stands. He'd moved while she was playing space cadet, his proximity making her nervous. The dangerous siphon could have done anything to her while she was being inattentive.

"I'm fine," she grumbles and trying to maneuver around him. Kai adjusts for her and then takes a sudden deep breath. His head cocks, assessing and Bonnie braces herself, frozen.

"You should anoint yourself after," he directs her, causing the Bennett woman to look up at him in surprise. His gaze is somewhere over her head and his chest is still, like he's holding his breath. Bonnie feels irrationally offended. He pulls the vial of protective oil out of his sweatpants.

"It'll be harder for demons to sense you," he informs. He sounds bored. Now Bonnie is definitely offend, irrational or not, and she's angry that she's angry. It's just fucking Kai.

"Just move," she shoves past him, ignoring his sacred oil and goes to the restroom. Her shower is quick and furious, the young woman scrubbing her skin harshly with shitty soap under too hot water. It's fine. She wants to scour the insanity off herself. Whenever all this bullshit is over, she'll be glad to bid the tall Heretic adieu.

She dresses and hurries out of the room in a huff, still angry with herself. Ignoring Kai, who puts a shirt on and follows her outside, griping at her to rub herself down with his fucking sacred oil, which she probably would have done had she not wanted to just get the hell away from him. But it distresses him and she feels vindictive, so she ignores his pleas until they get too much.

"Fine! Just fuck off, you creeper," Bonnie snarls. "I'm going to see Caroline."

She snatches the items from his hand and breezes through into the her friend's room when Stefan opens the door, probably having heard her stomping their way.

"Rough morning?" Caroline greets sympathetically. Bonnie heaves an aggrieved, dramatic sigh, and flings herself on the bed that was still made, hedging her bets it wasn't the one that got defiled by her friends.

"I hate him," Bonnie mutters. "He's not even doing anything worth being mad at, but I just - he makes me nervous and I don't trust him. And all this shit," she waves her hands in the air, indicating the general shit. "Is too much."

Sitting down beside her, Caroline pets Bonnie's short hair. It was something Bonnie always liked, that her Grams then later Elena and Caroline, used to do for her when she was upset. There's a weird noise outside, but they're in the shady part of town, so Bonnie ignores it.

"Can I do your make-up?" Caroline asks with a smile. Bonnie considers it and decides she needs something normal. With smile, she tells Caroline to make her glamorous.

There's another sound outside, like breaking glass, that makes all three of them flinch. Stefan stands from the other bed where he'd been looking at his phone.

"I'm gonna check it out," he announces, heading towards the door.

Bonnie frowns after him, concerned, suddenly wondering if it wasn't shady people doing shady shit outside, but more creepy demonic shit. She stands too.

"Wait," she calls. "It might be dangerous."

"We have to check on Kai then," he replies. "If it's demons, he'll have a better idea what to do."

The green-eyed beauty doesn't like it, but agrees. Kai's her protector, or so he says, and he seems to be genuine about it. If it was another demon, she'd rather he be around.

She and Caroline follow after Stefan in time to see Kai snap out a sharp " _vatos"_  that draws Damon - their Damon, missing Damon - into his waiting hand. Damon's body starts to go ashen immediately.

And there it. That's the Kai she knows, the one that couldn't be lurking far underneath this weird, snarky nice-guy persona he's been putting on. All Bonnie sees in that instant is her friend being choked by the sociopath that left her for dead and she snaps.

"Let him go!" she shouts, darting past Stefan. She can hear him shout behind her and seconds later, she's being scooped up by him. Kai releases Damon, turning their way, face scarily blank. Then he blinks out of existence, only to reappear beside them, snarling angrily has he bodily separates Stefan from Bonnie.

The world goes topsy-turvey. Kai grabs at Bonnie, pulling her to himself with one arm, hefting Stefan at Caroline with the other - and fuck, Bonnie never realized  _exactly_  how strong vampires were - before porting them both out of the parking lot. She feels disoriented, the same sick feeling she got when she first portal jumped from 1994 to 1903. Kai lets her go and she reels away from him, bending over to upchuck bile - all her empty stomach has to offer.

Kai's doing something to her, rubbing his hands over her hair and neck and back, and she thinks he might be trying to soothe her except she can smell mugwort and vervaine and she realizes he's slathering that fucking oil all over her. She slaps his hands away when she feels them sliding into her back pocket. He only tucked something in there, but she doesn't care. His hands on her ass was not particularly welcome when he just attacked her friends and made her motion sick with a teleportation spell, non-perverted intentions or not.

"Get the fuck off of me!" she bristles, standing. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Where did Damon come from?"

Kai stays silent, grabbing at her again, twisting her head about and checking her neck over for something. She shoves him off and slaps him.

The siphon's head snaps to the side and freezes. His brows furrow and slowly he turns to look at her, half-angry and half-confused.

"What was that for?" his voice is low, but off. He seems out of it, like he's intoxicated. The idea of being alone with him when he's not in his right mind sends a chill through her. Reigning in her temper, she counters.

"What happened? What's wrong with you?"

He blinks, looks around the room. "What are you talking about?" he steps closer, gripping her elbow and Bonnie doesn't bother pulling it away this time, choosing to study him instead. He seems genuinely confused, and Bonnie realizes an anxious Kai is a handsy Kai. He's been so hot and cold, but thinking on it, she realizes he virtually avoids her unless he feels uncertain of their safety.

_My safety,_  Bonnie realizes.  _He reaches for me to make sure I'm safe._

"Where are we? How'd we get here?" he mutters. Bonnie frowns.

"You don't know? You ported us here."

"What?" he looks at her. "Why the hell would I do that? Where are your loud mouth friends?" Bonnie blinks at him. A strange calm overtakes her.

"What  _do_ you remember?" she inquires.

"I remember following you to Stefan and Caroline's room. You were being a bitch."

Bonnie sucks her teeth unappreciatively. "That's it?" she asks crossly. Kai nods absently, focused taking in their surroundings. Wherever they are, it seems abandoned and he releases his grip on her. Bonnie sighs and explains the last few minutes to him, what she experienced of it and Kai frowns, turning to look at her as she speaks.

"Damon?"

"Yeah."

Kai seems to think then shakes his head. "I don't remember him. My last thought was about banishing a demon and then the next thing I know we're here."

Bonnie nods. "Do you think you can port us back to -?" Kai's already shaking his head.

"No way. If Damon - who is possessed by the way - is there, there's no telling who he brought or if it's too late for them or not. We can't go back for them." He grimaces. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie."

His sincere apology staves off her mounting anger at him. She stares at him. He seems so genuinely upset by his loss of control. She recalls the swiftness with which he threw his body over hers when the witches attacked last night, the almost extreme paranoia he has about her being away from, being without some sort of protective talisman, and it dawns on her that he can't control himself. He protects her like a reflex because it is.

The scope of their situation really hits Bonnie then. Whatever is happening, whether she believes it really is threat to end of the world or not, the man standing before her does. Whatever entity brought him back to life does. The coven that tried to kill her last night does. Bonnie blinks back tears at the revelation. And now she's alone with a man who tried to kill her, who probably hates her to some extent, and there's a possibility all her friends might be lost to her forever. She turns her back to Kai, a hand covering her mouth as she fights back a sob.

"Bonnie?" Kai sounds alarmed. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't -"

The woman in question ignores him, twirling back around to throw herself in his arms. Bonnie's crying in earnest, grieving the fact that she really is all alone, that her family is all dead and that all her friends either might as well be. She's got no one, except this stupid back-from-the-dead psycho that she had no choice but to trust with her life. She cries into said psycho's chest.

And then Kai's got her wrapped up tight in his arms, holding her as she cried. And really she should move away, shouldn't give him this vulnerability. His hands are stained with the blood of people who've mad that same mistake. But he's warm and he smells like herbs, clean laundry, and sweat and he feels so real, like an anchor. So she lets herself be vulnerable.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Negl, I love writing from possessed Damon's perspective. The demon inhabiting him is just...great, I love that murdering sycophant. Also, in this story, Kai's got Chris Wood's 'Jake Riley body', because my boy was rocking the very same biceps when he died (Chris filmed the end of s6 and Containment simultaneously). What's poor Bonnie to do? Anyhoo, they all alone now and Kai's paranoia is going to keep them that way for a while. This chapter is a little short, but next chapter, Damon explains some things and we get to see some old and new faces, so that one will be much thicker.


	8. Chapter Seven: Well, This Has Got To Be the Longest Crush Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Title from the the song “Power Trip” by J. Cole ft Miguel. TW for mass murder, gore and some backstory that bastardizes Christian dogma and other mythology.

******_ “If you are silent about about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” _ **

** -Zora Neale Hurston, novelist, excert from “ ** **_ Their Eyes Were Watching God _ ** ** ” **

-o0o-

As is his usual Thursday routine now, Tyler helps Mrs. Anderson get her groceries up to her apartment, absently running through his to-do list in his head. He pretends not to notice the way the older woman’s hand slides down his chest when she pats his shoulder in thanks, instead just sending her a charming smile.

“See you next week, Mrs. Anderson,” he says, accepting the fifty dollars she hands him. Tyler doesn’t need the money, but she’s insistent on paying him for the time he takes to drive her to and from the grocery store and helping her unload her haul. The werewolf has just learned to let it go.

“Bye-bye now, sweetie,” she croons and shuts her door, leaving Tyler to his business.

Right. He thinks over his itinerary for the day. He has to run and pay the rent on the storage unit where he keeps Elena hidden, then actually check up on his childhood friend before texting Caroline a status update. After that he needs to drop his truck off at home and take the sub to the NYU campus for his fall schedule, then get ready for the incoming full moon.

“No rest for the wicked,” the Lockwood wolf mutters to himself, thumping down the stairs and back to his truck. Luckily, it’s still morning and he has plenty of time to get shit done.

After paying the two hundred fifty dollars, he looks over his old friend. Her coffin is still pristine, as is the girl inside, both untouched by the machinations of the world. Lucky them.

Sending his ex-girlfriend a text that says ‘ _ no change, still good’ _ in reference to their magically comatose friend is kind of weird, but weird has become Tyler’s norm. Especially after everything he’s gone through the past few years. Especially considering he’s a damn werewolf in New York City, like some sort of B-rated movie cliche.

It’s a busy day, but it’s the sort of busy that’s a little humdrum. Just checking off boxes. The only thing that really counts as a blip is when, on his way back to his loft, he thinks he sees Bonnie standing next to Kai freaking Parker by a red car. He nearly wrecks doing a double take, but by the time he’s safe and is able to look, the red car was gone and so was the couple.

And besides, it was probably just his imagination. A slice of pain hits him as the memory of Liv runs through his mind. His hands clench around the steering wheel. Purely his imagination. Kai’s dead. Bonnie had no reason to be in New York and she would have let him know if she was coming. The woman had even  _ less _ reason to be around Kai. Who was fucking dead.

So of course, it had to be his imagination.

Somehow though, Tyler doesn’t believe himself.

* * *

After Bonnie cries herself out, she lets Kai continue to hold her for a little while. His embrace is comforting and despite herself, there’s a thick sense of safety when he holds her. They sit on the floor of whatever weird place he’d ported them to until she pulls herself together and then Kai pats her gently on the back.

“We need to go,” he tells her softly. “Figure out where the fuck I took us and make a game plan. We still need to get the dumb Necronomicon and destroy it, then we can figure out how to save your friends.”

Bonnie looks at him in surprise. “You’ll help me?”

“If I don’t, you’ll just run off, right? Easier to protect you if I just go along with your crazy schemes.”

Unwillingly, Bonnie smiles and pulls away from him. “You know it. Just...this was fluke alright? I don’t trust you, but you’re all I’ve got and you seem like you’re sticking around so, for now, I’ll grant you that truce.”

Kai stares at her a beat. “The one I offered in 1994? Seems a few years late, maybe the offer expired.”

“No way. This is a new truce, on my terms. Things are vastly different anyway. We’ll work together alright? We’re partners.”

“Partners?” Kai considers. “Not friends?”

“Don’t push it,” Bonnie warns. The tall siphon lets out a dramatic wail.

“Not even friends? After I held you in my arms and let you sob your sorrows into my chest? Jeez, you’re tough.”

“Ugh,” the Bennett woman shakes her head, but she has to admit to herself that she appreciates his attempt at levity.

“Let’s go,” she mutters.

The building they were in is some sort of abandoned brownstone, empty of any residents. When they get outside, Bonnie looks up and down the street, trying to pinpoint where they are. She hears a teenager yell after his friend with a very distinct Brooklyn accent and her eyes widen. The witch whirls to glare at Kai, previous arrangement momentarily forgotten.

“Did you send us to New York?” she hisses.

“Uh, maybe? I spent a lot of time here in the prison world, maybe I just-”

“Are you fucking with me?” Bonnie cuts him off. Her suspicions kill her tentative trust. “New York? Why would you bring us here? Do you know someone here?”

Kai looks at her strangely. “I’ve been dead for like, half a decade. And in prison for two decades before that. No, I don’t fucking know anyone in New York.”

Slapping a hand over her face, Bonnie tries to temper her misgivings. They had  _ just _ called a truce after all and if Kai was unknowing of just what was in New York, she wasn’t going to be the one to tip him off. She pats her back pocket and mentally sends thanks to the powers that be that she still has her phone and wallet on her. Biting the inside of her cheeks slightly to ease the tension in her, she makes up her mind.

“I’m gonna call an Uber.”

“What’s Uber?”

“It’s like a, um...a taxi? I just want to get to a hotel.”

“And pay with what money?”

“I have money, Kai. Everything is digital, it’s not like the nineties.”

He pulls a face at her, but watches her pull up the app in curiosity.

“So you just use the internet to call a stranger to pick you up? That seems safe,” he mutters.

“Did you know crime rates have fallen pretty drastically since the nineties? Of course, there are still horrific crimes that get a lot of media portrayal, but overall, murder rates have gone down. Probably because you weren’t here.”

“Hardy-har-har,” he replies, deadpan. “Your little buddies were though, so maybe all the remaining crime was committed by them.”

Bonnie ignores the jab, conceding that she did, in fact, start it. Kai sits with her on the sidewalk as they wait for their driver, Nicky, to arrive in his red Volvo. The resurrected Heretic eyes all passerby with a mean expression. Apparently, people are smart enough to trust their instincts and avoid the dangerous siphon as they pass the pair by.

Squealing brakes get Bonnie’s attention just as a red Volvo pulls.

“Crazy fucking traffic,” the driver mutters about the other drivers near collision. “You Bonnie? I’m Nicky, nice to meet yous guys.” The man greets. He’s a stocky, mid-height Latino man with light hazel eyes and an infectious smile. A large New York Yankees sticker decorates his dashboard and Kai eyes it in distaste.

Nicky’s professionally helpful and tells Bonnie he knows a Best Western nearby when she asks for a decently priced hotel. He’s also a talkative New Yorker with spunk and great sports fan loyalty. Almost immediately, he and Kai get into a debate about the Mets versus the Yankees. Bonnie wants to be anywhere but there, and hopes that Nicky doesn’t kick them out because Kai’s a dick.

“The Mets ain’t even won a World Series since ‘86 okay, guy? Yanks have got ‘em beat by by five,  _ five, _ since then, alright?” Nicky shouts. “Mets is cheap.”

Kai makes an indignant sound at that. “Listen, in terms of coaching and overall team cohesion, the Yankees have a good system, but in terms of players, the Mets have produced some of the greatest players of all time, including but not limited to Tug McGraw, Cleon Jones, Gary motherfuckin’ Carter -”

“The Kid?” Nicky interrupts. “No way, dude. He’s literally a fluke okay, he’s the whole reason Mets even got that World Series cup in ‘86. Using him is a cheat.”

“Is not! You think he’s a Hall of Famer for nothing? He’s one of the greatest players of all time! Name another player who -”

Bonnie tunes out their argument until Nicky drops them off at a nicely designed Best Western. She wants to take the chance to send a covert Snapchat message to Tyler, knowing that Kai probably wouldn’t know about the app and it’s quickly fading messages, but every time she moves, Kai’s eyes dart her way and Bonnie opts to wait for a better chance. When they get dropped off, she tips Nicky five dollars for keeping Kai preoccupied anyway, which said siphon isn’t at all happy about, stating that the driver had a stupid opinions. Bonnie frowns at him.

“You’re from  _ Portland _ ,” she supplies. “Why do you care about a New York team for such a boring sport?”

She regrets her choice of words soon after, when Kai screeches at her and flaps his arms around like some kind of angry ostrich, all long legs and aggressively upset posturing. Sighing, she goes inside to check in, lamenting that they only have one room currently available that happens to be a single king. But she’s tired and doesn’t want to call another Uber in case Kai gets into a fight about the art showcases at the MoMA or something, so she takes it.

“Shut up,” she tells him. “Go shower. Order food. Go out and sight see, steal some clothes or blood or something. I’m taking a nap.”

Kai stops ranting. “I’m not leaving you,” he informs her.

“Then we’ll go after I wake up,” she snaps. Falling onto the bed, she curls up on her side. “Just shut up and leave me alone.”

He’s quiet, and then Bonnie is rocked by the force of him obnoxiously flopping down on the bed beside her. Bonnie rolls her eyes before closing them. The TV flicks on and soon enough, the witch is falling asleep to the sound of David yelling for his friend Jack and Nazi werewolves growling in a violent shoot out.

Her last thought is of freaking course Kai would like  _ An American Werewolf in London _ . 

* * *

“ _ Salam iskthu shalir. Akala donem horem. Salam iskthu shalir. Hestel Astraya norusii. Salam iskthu shalir. Akala donem horem. Salam iskthu shalir. Hestel Astraya norusii. _ ”

Hands cross-linked to form a triskelion with their arms, the Astraya high priestesses intone the summoning. The Hound they wish to call forth is dormant, ancient and angry, resisting their call, but she was also powerful.

Hopefully, she would understand.

“ _ Salam iskthu shalir. Akala donem horem. Salam iskthu shalir. Hestel Astraya norusii. Salam iskthu shalir. Akala donem horem. Salam iskthu shalir. Hestel Astraya norusii. _ ”

Sweat drips down the triplets faces. The fire of the candles spring unnaturally high, the smaller circle surrounding them beginning to melt down at an accelerated rate. Their coven stands, hands linked to form a larger circle around the candles, voices chanting deep and proud with their leaders. The spell weighs heavy on the coven but finally, finally, something gives.

A sudden hush takes over the coven members. Slowly, the members in the larger circle open their eyes, but keep their hands linked.

The candle flames flicker out, the only remnants of them being the black wax that’s melted into a pentagram and the smoke that hangs in the air. Electric bulbs glow on suddenly, lights too bright and hot before the glass shatters. A few members flinch, but hold the circle.

_ Why have you summoned me? _ A woman’s disembodied voice demands.

“The beast walks free.” Hati answers. “He seeks the last Bennett, to unleash darkness on the earth once more.”

_ The last Bennett? _

“A young woman named Bonnie. Her champion is a risen Gemini leader named Malachai Parker.”

_ Geminia? _

“Completely fallen,” Hati supplies. “At his hands no less. He’s psychopathic, but appears fully committed to his duty.”

_ Then why summon me?  _ The voice hisses, curiosity melting to anger.

_ The beast walks free, just like he did the last time. He will pursue the girl, and he will not accept defeat so easily as he did before, _ Tia speaks up.  _ The champion will not let the girl be killed, he doesn’t understand what needs to be done. But you do. _

For a second, it seems as if the voice has left them. Tia wonders if perhaps she was too aggressive in her stance, if she somehow upset the Hound. But then the voice returns.

_ I accept. _

* * *

The terrified shrieks of movie patrons as they try to escape, trampling each other in attempts to break through the barred exits, falls like a symphony on Gloria’s ears. It’s amazing, wonderful even, how chaotic people become when fear of death rules them. She watches as other  _ nefaria sanguinem  _ go trigger happy around near the entrances of the equally barred viewing rooms and soaks in the sound of falling bullet shells as people are slaughtered by the gun spray. Fear taints the air and a beatific smile graces Gloria’s face.

Her eyes closed, she spreads her arms, miming the so-called Son, the most prominent of her Father’s earthly failures. But she will not be another failure. Had someone seen her then, the red decor and lights of the theater back-lighting her figure, the glowing exit sign above her head, they might have thought her some divine thing. And perhaps they may have been right.

“ _ Mortem rex, _ ” she coos. “My Father, who art from heaven, hallowed be thy name...I will be your most beloved child. The most devoted. I will not fail you as others have.”

A stray employee tries to run pass, but Gloria’s small right fist punches through their rib cage so quickly the motion went unnoticed. Her eyes open almost lazily as she lolls her head to her right, pushing her arm through the hot flesh of the sputtering young man who had been running for the exit behind her.

“Where are you going?” she questions softly. She wiggles her fingers, still slowly sliding her arm through his torso, aiming for his heart. “You’re needed here.”

A bloody sob leaves the boy’s lips as he dies, his eyes desperate on the exit sign. Gloria tsks.

“Don’t despair,” she says. She taps her fingers against his panicking heart. “Fear. You’re dying.” She gives her arm a rough shake. Blood drips down her elbow. Her smile grows when the urine and shit that leaves him carries the fear she needs.

“Much better.” Finally, she grips the cardiac muscle, feeling it fall apart in her fingers. Retracting her arm, she lets the teen’s body fall and starts to suck the blood from under each of her fingernails.

The cacophony dies down and her smile returns around her red-stained digit, feeling the ground come alive. Consecrated.

* * *

_ Bon missing w Kai, keep look out. Found Damon. Remember girls have dentist apmt tmr @ 1. Call u 2nite _

Ric sighs at the succinct message and phones his contact at the local police department, a detective he’d met when he and Caroline first moved to Dallas who also moonlighted as a vampire hunter. He, Jeremy, and Alaric had formed a sort of loose information network, even though Jeremy tended to fall off the radar for weeks at time with only the occasional  _ still alive, in Xxxx _ text to let them know he wasn’t rotting in a ditch somewhere.

Just in case, Alaric sends him a quick e-mail, updating him know about his ex-girlfriend’s status. Jeremy will get it when he gets it. The marked Hunter was currently in South America, having stated he was investigating weird mass deaths happening in Brazil.

Oddly enough, there was plenty of that happening in North America too.

Ric bites his lips, worry for Bonnie turning his stomach. Over the years, he’s learned to appreciate the depth of how he failed his former student and so the thought of her with his daughters’ unhinged uncle makes him anxious. He will not let Bonnie down again, not when they’d just gotten back to a good place. She was family.

It baffles him how quickly things always turned to shit when events went sour. He should have known the halcyon days were reaching their end. Less than 72 hours before he brought the girls back to Texas, Bonnie was laughing with her god-kids and now…

Now tides were turning and the waters were looking red.

Kai had somehow resurrected his crazy ass and the hate that Alaric thought he’d long worked through had return. Caroline’s rendition of events had him suspicious, but so long as so many players were down and too much information was unavailable, Alaric had little choice but to prepare and wait for his chance.

They’d get rescue Damon and Enzo, get Bonnie back from that psycho, and then Alaric would make sure there was no way in hell the bastard was coming back from the dead for a third time.

* * *

Wetting the watercolor pencil, Father Ellis Hunson carefully lets the damp grass color run over the rough paper in his sketch book, blending with the slightly bluer shade of emerald he’d applied earlier. If his art classes were worth anything, the shade should be as close as he could get to the young woman’s eyes with his supplies. Adjusting his spectacles, he leaves the watercolor to dry and switches back to a charcoal pencil to round-out the shading in the sketch. About five minutes later, he puts the pencil down and studies the finished sketch, finally allowing himself to take in the full brunt of her visage.

The woman was young, early- to mid-twenties, African American, with hair styled in a short bob. Her features were slightly asymmetrical, giving her lips a mischievous tilt and her jaw a stubborn angle. If the fire in her eyes, reflected even in his shoddy rendition, was any indication, she had the sort of personality to back that interpretation. The woman was beautiful, he could admit with some guilt, and a blasphemer.

She was also in grave danger, and that is the detail that concerned the priest.

He flips through older sketches in his book. A young man, risen too often from the dead, a sinner many times over. A man whose true image is overlaid with a wolf. An undead trio, two brothers and overwhelmed young woman. Little girl twins. An angry ancient woman. Another woman, lost to darkness. A sinister man whose face was blurry and kept changing.

Ellis frowns at the images. A lesser man, a lesser  _ priest, _ might find himself intimidated by the onslaught of godless monsters, but Ellis was undaunted. He was a child of the Lord, an exorcist blessed by the heavenly Father with second sight, and it was his duty to be shepherd to the unsullied and sullied alike. He would find the endangered woman and help her. He’d already made the arrangements for time off and let his cardinal know his intentions behind his leave request. He would help this woman. God commanded it.

But for now, he thinks, folding away his art book and donning his purple stole, he had confession to lead. Adjusting his rosary and stole, Father Ellis sweeps out of his office with quiet, purposeful strides.

* * *

The compliance of this body’s brother and progeny surprised Damon, but he supposes desperation for answers was a keen motivator. When he heals from the champion’s berserk attack and regains consciousness, he found himself in the backseat of yet another stolen car. Caroline is driving and he recognizes Stefan’s concerned gaze even before opening his eyes.

“Uuuuhn,” he groans. “Fuck. I need coffee. Fucking champions.”

“No,” Caroline snaps. “You’re gonna give us answers or I’m ramming all this salt Kai’s obsessed with down your throat. Then you’re going to give back Damon’s body.”

“Sure. You can have back an undead, catatonic body, see what I care. But no coffee, no answers.”

Stefan’s face looks quietly devastated when Damon announces that the original inhabitant is gone, so Damon pounces on the grief. “Look, you offer me some compromise and breakfast, and I’ll give you all the info you want, including what happened to your brother and how to save your friend. Last offer before I just leave you both for dead.”

The lovers share a look, and then Caroline is flicking on her turn signal to exit the freeway, making her way towards a Denny’s. Damon smiles in satisfaction.

Twenty minutes later, their waitress delivers their food with a smile, casting interested eyes Damon’s way. Women always looked at him like that. His vessel was good-looking, if annoying about it in his memories, so Damon was already used to what Damon was used to. So to speak. He sends her brief smile, then focuses on the vampires across from him.

“You’re brother’s dead,” he offers, drowning his blueberry waffles in maple syrup. “He’s in the immortal coil, being cleansed for rebirth.”

“I don’t understand,” Stefan frowns. “Does that mean he’s okay?”

Damon grunts, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “His soul is okay, which is the only part of him you should care about. His body is mine now, so let it go. Now, what exactly do you know about Bonnie’s situation?” he asks Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. The other two vampires look at each other, then shake their heads. “Right then, what did Kai tell you about Bonnie’s situation?” he tries instead.

“He said there was a prophecy about Bonnie, because she’s the last Bennett,” Caroline provided. “He said he wasn’t really sure himself, that most of the information he knew was kind of just dropped in his head or told to him by a voice only he hears.”

The blue-eyed demon nods. “Prophecy,” he states. He cuts a chunk of his waffle off and shoves it in his mouth. Still chewing, he continues. “Is when divinity speaks or predicts through a human. It’s one of the few ways the immortal coil and mortal coil interact directly. It’s adequate enough to explain what the champion is experiencing. Behemoths can’t manifest here without great trouble, so a Behemoth will chose a human for a task, and that human becomes a champion. I think Cade is the Behemoth who chose Kai.”

Both vampires looked confused.

Damon claps his hands together and rubs them. “Okay, how closely did you pay attention in Sunday school? I realize because of what you are and what you’ve seen, you might not be devout Christians anymore, but you grew up in the Bible Belt. Surely you know something about the Books of Genesis and Revelation.”

Caroline looks chagrined and Stefan looks adequately annoyed. Well, then. Damon tries a different approach. “Alright, how about world religions in general? Do you know any creation myths or apocalyptic scriptures?”

Again, odd looks and silence, so Damon throws his hands up in a huff. “Fine, you’re poorly educated. I see that. It doesn’t matter, I was just asking for comparisons sake. Most human religions only have kernels of the truth, but don’t capture the full story. There are overarching themes that many religions share and that’s the closest to the truth and what we have to focus on.”

“The Creator and the rebellious son,” Stefan speaks up suddenly. “Satan or the Devil or Loki, whatever he gets called. The end of the world is brought about by the child of the rebel.”

Finally. Damon beams. “Good, okay, you’re on the right track - that part is true. In the beginning, there was Chaos, from which arose The Old Ones, the first of the sentient entities. Power meant everything, it was what they fed on, fought over, fucked for. They destroyed each other for power and the last of The Old Ones is what many monotheistic religions revere as The Creator. God, The Father, Zeus, Odin, Ra, whatever. So thus humans get their creation myths. Sound familiar?”

Both fair-haired vampires nod and Damon takes a breath. Thank fuck for that.

Their waitress comes by again, refills his coffee with a flirty smile, but she doesn’t linger. Damon watches her go, considering, until Caroline clears her throat. He looks back over to her glaring cornflower eyes and smiles.

“Yes?” he goads her.

“You told us mythology we already knew,” she snaps. “Get on with it.”

Damon roles his eyes. “Pushy much? Anyway, where was I? Right, so the last of The Old Ones, from hence forth known as The Creator, found itself lonely. What good was having absolute power without having anyone to wield it over? So then, The Creator created: It created the immortal coil and the mortal coil. Then from the remains of Its fallen brethren, It filled the two coils. Firstly, from their bones, The Creator forged the planets. From their blood, The Creator’s first children, the Behemoths, were made. And lastly, from their seed, immortal souls were born.

“Now, you’ve definitely heard of Behemoths. There aren’t many of them and they were worshiped in pantheons as gods by the ancient people and became known as angels and demons when Judaic religions became all the rage. Anyway, Behemoths and immortal souls have a long, complex relationship. After making all this life, The Creator got bored, said fuck it, and then scattered all that accumulated power until it fell into a deep sleep.”

“Wait,” Caroline says. “Are you seriously saying God is dead?” She looks disbelieving and uncomfortable. Whatever her belief system, like any human, former or otherwise, she felt uneasy having it questioned.

“Not dead,” Damon soothes, not wanting to have an argument on his hands just yet. “Just sleeping. The Creator’s power still exists and moves the universe in ‘mysterious ways’ and Its will is still very real and active. And that’s were the complexity comes in. Despite being the first of The Creator’s children, Behemoths were not Its favorite child. Souls had a very fascinating transformative power. When Christians say they were made in God’s image, they’re really talking about their souls - all that light, power, and energy condensed into one being, it’s exactly what The Creator was like,” he says in a reverent tone.

“Behemoths are tasked with keeping the souls pure, as close to the The Creator’s image as possible. There are many, many of them, as you know, more than just what this planet has to offer. Behemoths, who exist only in the immortal coil, guide souls between the two realms. Souls that lead good lives and are attached to the mortal coil, they get to experience the part of immortal coil called heaven - it helps them to let go of their previous lives, get cleansed and return to the mortal coil in a new form. A similar thing happens to souls that were naughty in the mortal coil. They experience hell, release the things that corrupted them, then get cleansed and start over. When souls are ready for rebirth, it’s called Rapture. Souls are blessed in that they are the only of The Creator’s creations that get to experience the miracle of life.”

“Behemoths aren’t alive?” Stefan wonders.

“If you can’t die, are you ever truly alive or do you merely exist? I’m sure given your unnatural state of being, you’ve questioned this yourself. But you’re not a true immortal, despite the magic that sustains you, so I wouldn’t worry about your soul. You’ll die at some point, you’re not like us.”

Caroline’s face twisted at his flippant explanation, no doubt concerned for Stefan’s feelings. Or her own. Doesn’t matter. Ignoring her, Damon scoops some eggs into his mouth and tries to get back on track.

“I got lost again, where was I at? Right. Souls. Miracle of life. Here is the part that concerns our lovely Miss Bennett. So one of the Behemoths, they see these souls, who get to live. He sees how some souls give their bodies special abilities, like witches, the wolves, the fish-girls -”

“Fish-girls?” both Stefan and Caroline say. Damon sighs, and instead of answering, chews really slowly on his bacon, staring at them. He chews each bite, until the whole strip is a mushy wad in his mouth, swallows, then takes several swigs of his coffee, watching them grow more agitated as they wait. 

“It’s a metaphor,” he finally says, placing his drained mug down.

“All of them are able to use magic in some way. Wolves are souls whose corporal bodies have more than one form. Fish-girls are mermaids, but it was a joke. I’m indicating souls whose existence depends on the state of the planet they inhabit. Nature spirits, sprites, whatever - most of those sort on this planet are dead now and permanently back in the immortal coil. Witches are...witches, humans who are able to tap into the The Creator’s remaining power and manipulate it in the mortal coil. They’re pretty unique souls - after all, a Wiccan wannabe can’t really wield magic, no matter how hard they try - and they tend to stick to themselves when they have corporal bodies. Witch souls tend to beget children with witch souls, they’ve created their own cycle of rebirth that exists outside of what the Behemoths control. They have souls that, no matter what they go through in life, never get tarnished. They don’t ever return fully to the immortal coil either, they just stay here, but still manage to access the The Creator’s power which is in the immortal realm and usually only tangible in this realm in things like...I dunno, magnetic fields. Forces that just  _ are _ and can’t be denied. I’m sure you’ve seen Bonnie do magic right? Laws of physics don’t exactly apply.”

“Okay, so what does all this have to do with Bonnie exactly?”

“If you’d stop interrupting, I’ll tell you.” Damon snaps. “Right, so like I said, witches’ souls never leave the mortal coil, which means they’ve bound themselves to the very foundation, the bones, of the living planets, but still remain connected to the immortal coil and the power that resides there. This uniqueness drew the attention of one Behemoth in particular, who overall hates souls, hates the fact that Behemoths, who are more powerful, have to serve and protect the souls, who were the ones who inherited all the love and free will. They think it’s bullshit. So because the souls of witches are incredibly unique, this Behemoth does something unheard of - they take a male form and start fucking women with these unique souls.”

“What?” the two vampires say, confused. Damon nods with a what-can-you-do shrug, pretending to interpret their query as shock.

“Right? Unheard of. Anyway, children are seeded and you get stories about these inhuman beasts or tragic heroes. The sex wasn’t working, those children ended up having awful, short lives, so the Behemoth tries something different. Instead of conceiving with sex they conceive with power. Less tragic, but still - the most famous of them was Jesus of Nazareth, so Christians got some of the story wrong, but that’s okay, because he was still a savior from divine origins... anyway, these kids were hard to control, they moved nations, made waves, changed history. The Behemoth wanted a child that would help bring about the end of the souls, not keep them saved. So third time’s the charm.”

Pausing in his long narration, Damon finishes off his breakfast, then looks between the two captivated, if perturbed, vampires.

“The Behemoth chooses a witch woman, whose corporal body is young and pure, so she can’t access her magic yet and whose soul is so gleaming bright with power it’s like looking at The Creator all over again. So this young girl, who has so much power, but is too young to wield it, gets cursed by the Behemoth with great beauty. One man, a powerful man with a corrupt soul, wants the young girl, but when she refuses him, he rapes her and leaves her for dead. The Behemoth comes to the girl then, tells her to pray and that they will save her and that she will be blessed with a child whose descendants will be so powerful, no man can ever do to them what was done to her. So the girl prayed, and the Behemoth tainted the taken seed in her womb with their blood, the very same blood of The Old Ones that it was forged from, and the girl’s child was born into power and their child was born into power and so on, growing more and more addicted to magic, a line that produced several powerhouse witches including Qetsiyah...”

“Qetsiyah?” Stefan interrupts. “I met her, she was -”

“A really pale shadow of who she once was. Too much power and longevity made her obsessed and crazy. But think about the spells she made and the things she could do - unheard of until the Behemoth tainted her line. The Behemoth chose the brightest soul they could, then made sure that every child born in that line would have bodies that carry Behemoth blood and souls that stuck around the mortal coil, making imprints and lasting changes on the realm. Qetsiyah was one of the Behemoth’s human children. The Behemoth gave the first child a book to teach her to control her power, one that was eventually lost to time, but held one prophecy, a spell the Behemoth created - when the last of the Behemoth’s descendants walked the earth alone, the Behemoth would return and take back what’s theirs.”

“I don’t understand,” Caroline shakes her head. “Okay, I get that you’re essentially calling my best friend the Anti-Christ, which, _fuck_ _you_ , but I don’t understand how that’s supposed to work. I mean what’s going on exactly?”

“Didn’t you pay attention? Apocalyptic scriptures. Almost all of them mention seals or chains being broken and catastrophes occurring and child of the rebel to walk the earth. You think all the shitty weather is just global warming? You think the Behemoth just stayed idle over the centuries? They became the  _ mortem regis _ , fractured the immortal coil with war, created the  _ nefaria sanguinem  _ by deforming souls that went to hell, and has spent the last few millennia breaking apart the seals that keep the immortal and mortal coils separate. This isn’t even the first living planet to fall, it’s one of the last ones standing. The  _ mortem regis  _ and Bonnie are the final seal in a long line of broken seals. If the alpha and the omega - the first and the last - are brought together, Chaos rules again. The blood of the fallen Old Ones that was used create the Behemoths, it will return to its original state. Bonnie, a witch soul with a body that carries Behemoth blood? She ties the realms together, she is forged from every piece of the fallen Old Ones. The  _ mortem regis _ cannot get their filthy hands on her. ”

Caroline exhales a heavy breath. The blonde looks shaken.

“Okay,” she nods. “That’s...a lot of information to take in.” Damon snorts, staring at his empty plate, wondering if he should order more food. His body is craving something more though, and he sends another subtle look at the waitress.

“That’s just the first and middle chapter, honey. The end is inevitable. Everything returns to it’s original state - chaos - at some point. Entropy is the only rule of power.”

“So why are you fighting so hard to stop it?” the younger Salvatore inquires. The possessed body of the older stares at him.

“I’m not. There are rules that bind Behemoths. The mortal coil is The Creator’s gift to souls, Behemoths cannot interfere or manifest here long without consequence. The  _ mortem regis _ is just as bound by these rules, but they like to pretend they can defy The Creator’s will. Things will end when they will end, but this is just a temper tantrum. It’s not the The Creator’s will for how things should end, so it’s wrong. You think Bonnie is the only Bennett witch to ever walk alone? The line has almost died out once before and that time a champion was chosen to help save the line or end it before the  _ mortem regis  _ could get to them. But this second chance will be the last time.”

“Why?” Caroline asks softly. “What makes Bonnie different from that time?”

Damon smiles and it’s not nice or any sort expression the Salvatore ever wore before. Caroline visibly suppresses a shudder. He hopes they’re reminded that what resides in Damon isn’t Damon any longer.

“Nothing at all,” he says. “It’s what the other Behemoth’s are doing that’s different. We have names. Real names that we keep hidden, not the fake shit we use to call each other. Our names are private and protect our power from each other, but they also bind us to The Creator’s will. In order to open a door between the immortal and mortal coil, you need ground consecrated with blood, lots of it. The best ground is ground already believed to be haunted or sacred or something other, because belief is empowering. Anyway, consecration is what I’ve been doing since taking this body.”

He seems unaware of his slip but Caroline latches on, vehement.

“You’re a Behemoth? That’s why you killed all those people like that?” Caroline snarls quietly. “What, to open a fucking door for your  _ brethren _ ?”

“Doors,” Damon corrects nonchalantly. His attitude makes Caroline realize he honestly doesn’t care about the people he’s killed and her face twists in disgust.

“Multiple,” he continues. “And it’s not like it matters, they’re going back to the immortal coil for purification no matter how they die, then they’ll be back here, no memories of their past life at all. The important part of them is their soul. Their bodies just have a key ingredients for making hellmouths and that’s blood and fear, because it calls to the basest nature of what we Behemoths are - the blood of the defeated Old Ones we were born from. The hellmouths exist, a few Behemoths can manifest themselves in the mortal coil and take vessels, like I did, and then use the  _ mortem regis _ ’s true name to bind them into the very walls they seek to destroy.”

“Those people died horribly and you did all that disgusting shit to their bodies!”

Damon blinks at her. “What you don’t like my art? I’m offended. Besides, I just said, to make a hellmouth you need blood  _ and _ fear. The fear comes from people  _ not  _ wanting to die like that.”

Caroline looks primed to snarl something else, but Stefan takes it upon himself to diffuse the situation.

“So hellmouths are broken seals?” he inquires.

“No. They’re gates, official doors in the wall we can manifest through. Behemoths and  _ nefaria sanguinem  _ can both use them to manifest in the mortal coil if we’re not directly summoned. The seals themselves are like the bricks in the walls that keep the realms divided. Take enough out and the whole thing crumbles. Both exist in-between the realms, neither here nor there. The problem is hellmouths are gateways, so anything in the immortal coil can use them to cross over. Open enough doors, break enough of the wall, you can bring back the power, and things revert to their old forms. Planets fall apart, souls and Behemoths alike are destroyed and then the Old Ones are back at fighting for power again. That’s what the  _ mortem regis _ wants ”

“Why would anyone want that? To destroy themselves like that?” The blonde-haired vampire breaths, her early anger dissipated. She looks mortified now. “This  _ mortem regis _ or Satan, I guess, would destroy everything to destroy himself? ”

“I suppose so.” Damon waves his hands. “Their suicide mission is not my concern. What is my concern is opening enough hellmouths so that the  _ mortem regis _ can be bound and then rebuilding and fortifying the seals so that things may follow The Creator’s will. You think I played at being one of those fucking  _ nefaria sanguinem _ all this time just to find out my crazy brethren’s motive? I don’t give a rat’s ass why they’re doing it, I just want to make sure they don’t. ”

“What about Bonnie? And Kai?” Stefan asks. Damon shrugs. He’s starting to regret sharing anything, they ask so many questions and interrupt too much, but it’s easier to have them off his ass than on it.

“What about them?” he replies. “Kai will either save her line or destroy it. So long as he keeps her away from her divine ancestor, none of the other Behemoth’s care which route he takes.”

“Kai wants to steal something he calls a Necronomicon. He said it’s the  _ mortem regis’s _ grimoire. I’m guessing it’s the same book you mentioned before. ” Stefan tells him.

“Where the hell would he get that idea?” Damon frowns. “The spell needs to be done in the immortal coil and the mortal coil at once, and the  _ mortem regis  _ would have an issue manifesting it on  _ this  _ side of the wall. So the spell to break the walls is bound to the mortal coil by that grimoire, it’s the lock on the last seal. No Behemoth would ever tell the last Bennett’s champion to - fuck.”

“What?”

The couple share matching frowns that they level at him, but Damon is busy recalling the mosaicism that he saw around Kai. The kid’s soul was fractured. Of course! How could he have overlooked this? Witches’ souls don’t leave the mortal coil, and siphon or not, Kai’s soul was that of a witch. He should never have been in the immortal coil, in hell, and Damon remembers seeing him there. Damon sneers, angry at this oversight. Before, Damon had questioned what his line of action should be, but now he knows. When this is over and he’s restored to power, he’s gonna piss on the  _ mortem regis’s _ dumb face every day for the rest of eternity.

“You want to save your friend, right? You need to kill her champion.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long AN: Face claims: Constance Wu as Gloria Yuen, Madison Davenport as Alma, Hati, and Tia, my ladies who see, hear, and speak no evil, and Zane Holtz as Father Ellis Hunson, my fave OC. Yes, I chose Madison and Zane bc they play another OTP of mine. Kai, demon!Damon, and Ellis are all interpretations of how duty and belief can either be a lead weight or a pair of wings. There’s one more main OC coming (the Hound, duh), but that’s it (unless you count the immortal coil peeps possesing TVD characters - they are technically OCs).
> 
> Some backstory/mythology to answer a lot of questions I’ve been getting, but if clarity is needed, I’m going to start a Tumblr tag on my blog @fuckitimfangirling: #famgi-mythos, spelled exactly like that to hopefully avoid polluting other tags on Tumblr. I’ll make posts explaining the mythology for this story in much greater depth as a reference for myself and you guys - now that this chapter’s up, there won’t be spoilers.
> 
> Damon’s demon gave a very abbreviated version of events, even though it doesn’t feel that way (Over five pages. Jeez. Lou. Eez). Someone asked how it’s possble that Damon’s a ‘good demon’ and the short answer is that he’s not. He’s a demon with a different goal than the main antagonist. And per my mythology, he’s not technically a demon, but he definitely doesn’t mind adopting the moniker, nor does he mind getting his hands dirty to fulfill his goals. Kinda like TVD Damon dialed up to 11. He ain’t lying about a damn thing either, but don’t trust him just yet.
> 
> Now...gimme your theories on what’s going on with Kai! A lot more clues were dropped. The person(s) who come closest/actually gets it receives a virtual hug. I give great hugs.


	9. Chapter Eight: Three Points Where Two Lines Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Title from the the song “Tessellate” by Alt-J. TW for fluff and filler. JK. It’s BK working through their issues with humor and fights and a semi-date, slow-burn style. There’s also mentions of sexual assault and incest.

**_ “The greatest deception men suffer is from their own opinions.” _ **

** \- Leonardo da Vinci, Italian Renaissance polymath, (April 15, 1452 - May 2, 1519) **

 

-o0o-

_ A shriek rips from her mouth as soft ice travels down her back. Whirling around, Bonnie slaps at the laughing man who dumped the snow under her shirt. _

_ “That’s cold, you ass!” she berates, but he only laughs harder, bending over. With a huff, Bonnie pulls her puff-top beanie down and turns away. She will not entertain such foolishness. _

_ “Wait,” the man wheezes as she stomps off. “Bon, c’mon, hold up!” She can hear the snow crunch under his feet as he shuffles quickly after her, but she ignores him, continuing to trudge on through the cold. She just wants to get home and curl up with a mug of hot tea and a mindless Netflix queue binge. _

_ A muscular arm encircles her waist, its twin going around her neck. His weight slows down her march, but his body heat is welcome. Then cold lips brush her ear and she pushes his face away in annoyance. _

_ “C’mon, Bonnie Bee, don’t be like that,” her companion speaks into her fingers. He kisses her palm before the hand retreats. “I’m just playing. I’ll warm you up. Cocoa with the marshmallows, all the snuggles you could want...” he tempts. _

_ “A foot massage?” she queries, biting her lip. Her toes are feeling numb. _

_ “Of course! I’ll bust out the hot oil. Lavender scented. You’ll dig it. Your feet will feel so pampered.” _

_ Bonnie pretends to consider it, but despite the cold, wet streak under her sweater, she’d already forgiven him. “Just my feet?” she asks. _

_ He hears the invitation in her voice and his head pops into her periphery. She turns her face to meet curious eyes. He smiles. Another shrill yell leaves Bonnie’s mouth as he picks her up, one that dies off into laughter. Hefted over her husband’s shoulder, she almost doesn’t hear him when he mutters something and a hot thrill runs through her when her brain interprets it. _

_ “The fuck did I put that vibrating massager?” _

* * *

“I have some more questions for you,” Stefan announces quietly into the hush of the foyer. Damon looks up from the tablet he’d been web-surfing on. They’d taken him back to the boarding house once he’d managed to convince them that he wasn’t lying and that he was indeed trying to prevent the end of the world. In exchange for them helping him stop the  _ mortem regis _ , Damon had offered to do everything he could to save Bonnie.

He’d been lounging on a daybed by the lit fireplace, reading news updates and sipping bourbon when Stefan walked in. Old habits die hard when they weren’t your own. Caroline had passed out earlier on a couch that afternoon when they finished going over their game plan for stopping Kai from getting the  _ mortem regis’s _ grimoire. Her soft snores had been Damon’s white noise as he perused current events.

“Ask away,” Damon permits, gaze back on the tablet.

The younger Salvatore hesitates, considering. “You’re different,” he states.

Damon quirks a brow at that and Stefan responds with a self-deprecating laugh and a headshake.

“I just...I spent almost two centuries with my brother. I know how he is and you’re different. You look like him, sound like him, but the way you are is just… different.”

“Imagine that,” Damon responds drolly, looking back to his tablet.

“I know you’re not him, but you said he was dead, right? Really dead. That his soul is in the immortal coil right now, being cleansed.”

“Those were my exact words, yeah.”

“Did you put him there? When you took over his body.”

“I did,” Damon finishes a current article about the American election and clicks on a new one about a mass murder at a movie theater in Denver, barely listening.

“Did he go to hell?”

The Behemoth-possessed vampire pauses. He considers lying, but he knows it’s fruitless.

“He did. It’s where I’m from, I’m pretty good at recognizing souls that belong there.”

“So I really can consider you a demon, then?” Stefan clarifies. Damon shrugs, uncaring of how the younger man wants to classify him.

“What’s hell like?”

Damon shoots him an  _ are-you-stupid? _ look. “It’s hell.” Stefan holds up his hands in surrender.

“I’m not trying to be annoying, I just want to understand. He’ll come back though, right? After...Rapture? Will I know him?”

The demon stares at him, reading the barely-concealed desperation. Whatever convoluted relationship the brothers had, they still loved each other. Damon will never understand such stupidity.

“Maybe,” he admits. “Some souls are attached to each other and are always drawn together in the mortal coil, no matter how many times they’re Raptured. Sort of like how Bonnie and Kai are.”

Stefan looks at him sharply. “Bonnie and Kai are soulmates?”

With a scoff, Damon loosely concurs. “If that’s what you want to call it. Doesn’t exactly work like you think, but it’s apt enough. Anyway, yes, there’s a chance you might find your brother’s soul again. The exact memories might be lost, but the soul remembers. Maybe your next relationship will be better.”

The hazel-eyed vampire falls silent and Damon observes him carefully.

“Huh,” he says. “You do have a brooding forehead. Weird.” Stefan rolls his eyes at the remark.

“What about Enzo? Did he go to the immortal coil too?”

Damon frowns. “No. I tried to bring him over - it’s my duty. Souls aren’t Behemoths, they can’t usher each other to the immortal coil, they don’t have the ability or the drive to do so. Lorenzo was possessed by a very old  _ nefaria sanguis, _ one of the first _. Nefaria sanguinem _ are, at their core, souls. Two souls can’t rule one body, the stronger soul always destroys the weaker soul. ”

“And Enzo was the weaker soul.”

“I’m afraid so,” Damon laments. It was always a pitiable event when a soul was lost. “It’s a shame, really.”

Surprised, Stefan stares at him. “You mean that. You’re genuinely upset.”

“Of course,” the Behemoth scoffs. “The Creator’s will is to preserve souls in It’s image and that’s my duty as a Behemoth. It’s the only thing that matters. Why wouldn’t I be upset when I fail?”

Something about his answer softens the younger vampire. A strange smile appears on the man’s face, something sad, but hopeful. 

“Are there different types of Behemoths? Like how souls and the n.s. are different.”

“No,” Damon frowns at the abbreviation Stefan used. “We’re all the same. And  _ nefaria sanguinem  _ are still souls. They went to hell and got manipulated by the  _ mortem regis  _ to deny Rapture. Because of that, they’re barred from ever living a life in the mortal coil again, becoming twisted little things bound by many of the same rules Behemoths are. And before you ask, no I doubt your brother will go that route, I sent him well out of the death king’s influence.”

“Okay. But there’s no difference at all between Behemoths we think of as angels and the ones we think of us demons?”

“Not really,” the demon supplies. “Some Behemoths run heaven, others run hell, some of us look after souls that stay in the mortal coil - like witches or ghosts - some of us test living souls to see where they need to go when they die, but we work together because our overall goal is to try and preserve as many souls as possible. Humans vaguely understand that our duty takes us different places and thus we get names like angels and demons. Of course, it’s baffling to consider that we’re literally all of the same ilk and that  _ most of us, _ ” he sneers, thinking of the rebellious  _ mortem regis. _ “Work together, not against each other. Purifying souls just doesn’t always look like what you imagine it should. We’ll do literally anything we need to do to carry out The Creator’s will.”

“So you’re all about duty. No morals.”

“Morality is a privilege reserved for souls. No matter what ‘evil’ shit I do,” he makes finger quotes around the word evil and mimes an exaggerated mean face. “I’m never going to be corrupted or need to be purified. I’m never going to feel guilty about it either, so you can stop with that. You’re a soul, you’ll never understand what it is to be a Behemoth.” 

“But you feel things,” Stefan counters. “I’ve seen you angry, amused, sad. So I’m not wrong for trying to connect with you.”

“Yes, you are. You’re being really stupid, actually,” Damon sets his tablet down completely and aims a mock-pitying expression at him. “What I feel is only in relation to my duty. If you try to connect or whatever with me, you’re just gonna hurt yourself, Stefan. This isn’t some buddy-cop movie. I’m not your brother.”

“Fine,” Stefan sighs. “How did the other champion save the other Bennett you mentioned before?” the younger Salvatore queries quietly into the fire-lit room. Damon smiles sardonically. It was an ironically similar situation.

“You know how I said witches had unique souls?” he starts to explain. “Behemoth’s can’t protect their purity like we do other souls, but we can make sure to eradicate threats to that purity. Champions chosen to protect someone have to die loving them - they don’t even have to move into the immortal coil. Witches make their own afterlives that we can interact with in a limited manner. Behemoths looking after witches are jokingly called guardian angels and they come to a witch who loved the intended charge and ask if they are willing to be resurrected to the mortal coil to protect them. 

“If they say yes, well...you have a Kai situation. The champion’s body is restored to life and their second shot centers on keeping their ward safe from the threat. It’s literally their reason for living and why they go absolutely berserk when they perceive their ward’s in danger- you saw how Kai reacted to me. Champions run the risk of forever being denied a chance at Rapture if they fail. It’s why they have to love the charge, have to give permission to be their champion. The last resort is to kill their charge - champions are blessed with the ability to cleanse their charge’s soul and send them straight to the rebirth cycle, essentially out of any threat posed by the immortal coil. The killing goes against everything in the champion, but it’s happened before. Those champions are usually considered failures and they bounce around the mortal coil listlessly, incapable of dying or living without their charge. I don’t envy them.”

Damon chuckles. “Anyway, the last time a Bennett champion was needed, she got seeded by the man, but when the  _ mortem regis  _ tried to possess him, she killed him and ran to protect their unborn children, who were in that instance technically the last Bennetts. She went to the Gemini coven and traded the first version of the prison world spell for their own little pocket world. She stayed there until their twins, Helia and Seera, were old enough to defend themselves and then they returned. Helia and Seera went on to have their own children and the Bennett line survived until now. The champion disappeared. She was a witch, so she might have entombed herself with a spell. I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t envy champions who failed.”

“Do you think Kai will...?”

With shrug, Damon answers. “Maybe. It destroyed Khala to kill her lover, especially after that. Kai’s still acting like a champion and still clearly wants her if he said yes in the first place, but I don’t trust him. He feels like a sleeper agent.”

“Yeah, about that,” Stefan says. “Why do you want us to kill him? Wouldn’t it be better to let him keep protecting her?”

Damon shakes his head, agitated.

“He’s not right. Like, he’s really not right. His soul is all splintered, like broken glass. It's familiar, but unrecognizable - I can't place who he was before, which would help a lot in figuring out why the fuck he was in hell in the first place. Witches don’t go to the immortal coil when they die, they just don’t. They’re bound here. They go to their own underworlds or they go into the rebirth cycle immediately. I know he was a siphon, but siphons still have witch souls. And you said he was hyper-emotive and strange? Something was wrong with him when he died and something is definitely wrong with him now.”

The hazel-eyed vampire is quiet, digesting Damon’s words. “He was the Gemini leader,” Stefan suggests. “Maybe the merge -”

“If that were the case, all Gemini leaders would go to the immortal coil when they die.”

“Luke wasn’t his twin though, so maybe he merged wrong.” Stefan persists. Damon frowns.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I keep wracking my brain and going through Damon’s memories for what he knows about Kai. The siphon had a very fucked up life, but none of it is really anything that should have put his soul in the clutches of hell. Witches have killed before, often, in fact. They’ve merged, died and resuscitated, stopped aging because of magic, lead very extended lives because of magic, became vampires, any combination of the above mentioned - none of those witches breached into the immortal coil when they died. But Kai did, so why?”

“You think it was foul play.” Stefan supplied softly.

“I do. The  _ mortem regis _ or another Behemoth playing double agent. Cade says he when he went to Kai, Kai was still in the mortal coil, but Kai kept saying he was in hell. I remember Kai in the immortal coil, before I knew he was a witch and came through the hellmouth. His soul didn’t look like a witch soul. So either Cade lied, or something is fishy.”

“Who’s Cade? You mentioned him before,” Caroline grumbles suddenly from where she’s been sleeping. Damon turns to her, smirking.

“A Behemoth. He likes the name Cade, likes male identifiers. He’s one of the Behemoths who looks after witch souls and lingering human souls.”

“Why should we kill Kai though? Can’t we just restrain him? He fought you to protect Bonnie, he’s doing everything right so far, isn’t he?” the leggy blonde huffs and sits upright, clearly giving up on sleep. 

“ _ So far _ . But that book? It’s a no. The death king needs Bonnie  _ and _ the book to break the seal. Someone whispering in Kai’s ear to go get the book? The same Kai who went to hell when he wasn’t supposed to, the same Kai who agreed to be Bonnie’s champion and has a splintered soul after resurrection? I call super duper foul.”

“Something wicked this way comes,” Stefan murmurs sardonically. He scoffs. “I miss the days when Klaus was our biggest concern.”

The vampire doesn’t see the way Caroline shifts uncomfortable, but Damon does. He quirks an eyebrow at her and she scowls, embarrassed and annoyed by being caught. Damon shifts his gaze back to Stefan, who is looking at him like he has more questions ready to go. But enough of that shit.

“Question time’s up,” the raven-haired man announces. He turns his tablet back on to read about the massacre that caught his attention. “I get you might have a whole list you wanna check off, but I ain’t your fucking demonic encyclopedia, so hope off my dick.”

“So you really are cool with us referring to you as a demon?” Caroline wonders. The Behemoth mimes zipping his lips. “Well then, from now on, you’re Daemon, D-A-E-M-O-N, because I seriously can’t with your imposterhood anymore.”

“Clever,” Damon says, staring at the screen. The blue glow lights his face eerily. “You spend all nap time thinking that one up?”

He tunes out her response, letting himself get swept back up in monitoring the activity of his batshit brethren.

* * *

Inhaling sharply, Kai’s eyes open to the sound of Bonnie’s even breathing in the afternoon light. It’s the second time that day he’s woken across from the younger witch, hell-like dreams still clutching at him, staring at Bonnie’s visage in the first moments of consciousness. She’s closer than she had been that morning, both of them having gravitated to the middle of the king-sized bed in their sleep. They’d even turned to face each other. If he scoots a little closer, he could inhale her exhales, use her carbon to kill off his blood cells. He thinks maybe that might be symbolic for what she does to him.

Kai’s not a shy person. He never has been, extroverted since he could walk. It got worse in the prison world, where he’d only had his voice for companionship. But something about Bonnie makes him clam up. His thoughts get all jumbled and the words can’t straighten themselves out. It was easier before he merged, and sometimes Kai misses that simplicity, because emotions? They’re trippy. Nothing he does seems competent or feels right.

When Kai had first merged with Luke, he spent the first few weeks actually trying to  _ lead _ his coven. Lording his newfound power over his dad was fun at first, but he’d been ill-equipped for coven leader status and found that he took the task seriously. But the members had been suspicious and resistant and he’d jumped at the chance to flee Portland. Damon’s phone call had been a balm.

And then he found out Bonnie, the girl whom the very thought of kept him sleepless, had returned and he was doomed.

Kai closes his eyes and scoots his body closer to Bonnie’s so that the his lines fit around her curves. Her body’s heat warms his body back up, which had cooled in his sleep. As close as possible, their bodies parallel, Kai inhales the scent of her hair. The anointing oil he doused her with, coconut, and some weird almond cookie smell. He smiles at the sweetness of her shampoo. Everything about Bonnie’s appearance short-changes who she is as person. Or at least the person he knows. If there is any sweetness in her, Kai has never had the chance to taste it.

Her breathing is changing, and her heart rate slowly speeds to a waking tempo. Just to fuck with her, Kai throws his arm around her waist, pulls close enough so that they really are touching, and waits for the moment when she comes to and freaks out. It takes him by surprise when she burrows into his chest, her nose pressing into the hollow at his neck. Then she mutters something about a foot massage and his breath freezes in his lungs. No way.

What -?

But then Bonnie sighs another man’s name and it feels like being doused with cold water. Spitefully, he pinches her hip. Bonnie jolts awake at the sensation and the first thing she does is push him off the bed.

Kai falls with a yelp, his head bumping the nightstand painfully on the way down. His reflexes have him up and off the floor in a blink, glaring down at her, despite that he probably deserved the shove. She blinks up at him from the bed, seemingly distraught and dazed. He’s kind of amazed at how strong such a small person is, but really?

Dream forgotten, he snaps at her.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“Sleep on the floor, ugh, oh my god!” she replies harshly, appearing to come out of her sleepy daze.

“Seriously?”

“Yes!”

Kai bites his tongue before this escalates into another one of their petty arguments. “Fine,” he grits. “I’m going to shower, then we can go out if you want.”

He doesn’t wait for her reply, just ushers himself into the bathroom and mentally runs through everything he needs to do.

Get food for Bonnie and blood for himself, even if he didn’t feel hungry. He can’t protect her if she starves to death or if he’s too desiccated to move. Get supplies, because even though he’d rubbed Bonnie down with the oil earlier, it wasn’t going to last and they were all out of black salt. Get clothes and maybe some entertainment. A phone and laptop for sure, so he can look up where to buy cars, so that they could have their own transportation-slash-safe space he could fortify with spells and wards easily. Then they could hit the road to get the damn Necronomicon, creepy grimoire thing, blaze it and Kai could take Bonnie some place out of the clutches of the  _ mortem regis _ .

The dragon’s voice had gone silent and even though Kai still gets random tidbits of information he knows he didn’t learn on his own, he can’t help but feel like an afterthought. Like the powerful being was busy, which - it  _ was _ technically the end of the world, even if it didn’t feel that way at the moment. But it’s disconcerting, especially after his odd blackout from before. He doesn’t remember fighting Damon or attacking Stefan or anything Bonnie told him he’d done.  For the first time in his life, he thinks he misses the prison worlds and fuck him if he ever thought he’d mean that sentiment. They would be a perfect way to isolate Bonnie - and himself - from danger. But the prison worlds died when he did, and even though he had Bonnie to provide Bennett blood, he doesn’t know if he had enough time to build an Ascendant or enough magic to build them a whole prison by himself, as the only Gemini.

The hot spray feels good on his chilled skin and he revels in it. They might just be at a Best Western, but damn if this complimentary soap didn’t smell like roses. Way better than the cheap, cash-taking, shady ass motel from this morning. Shoving his hair out of his place, he listens in on Bonnie, who’s ordering what sounds like a mountain of food from the room service menu, and he’s grateful that he can check at least one thing off his list.

He shucks his underwear in the trash - no way, he’s not even going to bother - and uses magic to clean and transform his clothes. His dad used to always rant and rave about the petty usage of magic, but Kai is still reveling in having his own magic to use after almost forty years as a ‘normal’ boy. The grey sweatpants become slightly distressed, fitted black jeans, the white tee a soft, stormy blue Henley that hugs his chest and shoulders and make his eyes look brighter. Kai opts to keep the top two of five buttons open, sweeping his half-dry hair back and wishing for some kind of product. Then stops when he realizes that is isn’t himself he’s preening for and scowls at his reflection.

Bonnie won’t care and with that thought, Kai makes himself leave the bathroom.

She does a double-take when she sees him and Kai does feel sort of happy that she seems affected by his appearance. The uplifted mood gets dashed though when she asks where he got his clothes.

“Magic,” he grumbles. Deciding to uphold their truce instead of letting his mood affect their shaky allegiance, he offers, “I can change yours too, if you want.”

She seems to consider it, but then shakes her head. “Nah. You said we’ll go out later. I’ll get stuff then, New York has a lot of evening shopping centers. I ordered food for us - I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but I remembered that your stomach is a black hole, so I got a little of everything.”

Kai snorts. “Good call. Thanks.” It’s weird that she chose that word to describe him. He used to always think of himself as a black hole in relation to his family, something dense and dark that pulled at the light of their powers with his gravity. Or to be more literal, his siphoning. Too bad Bonnie’s powers seemed to have fled completely.

If Kai was a black hole, she was the brightest sun he’d ever tugged at. Or she had been.

She’s also staring at him.

“What?” Kai queries. “Is there something on my face?” he rubs at his chin self-consciously.

He needs to shave again soon, but he sort of likes the stubble. His beard grows in really full, it makes him look older and he’s really kind of tired of looking perpetually young. Maybe Bonnie didn’t like it though? The thought sends another flurry of self-consciousness through him, as well as annoyance for even caring. It’s another reason to miss who he was  _ before _ . That Kai wouldn’t have given a shit about what anyone thought of him, crush or not.

“Hey,” Bonnie snaps her fingers. “Do you always space out like this?” she mutters.

“Sorry, what?” Kai replies, fighting back his chagrin. He can’t keep letting himself suffocate in his feelings for her. His emotions in general.

“I asked if you needed blood,” Bonnie says. Kai shrugs.

“I’m not craving any, but I was going to raid a blood bank later. Why?”

Bonnie nods. “Okay,” she declares. “I was just curious as to your plans.”

He studies her, realization dawning that she’s lying. Before he can address it though, a knock sounds at the door and he has to chase after her as she nearly sprints to the door. Guess he wasn’t the only one feeling the awkwardness.

They fight briefly at the door, but he’s bigger and stronger and he uses that to hip check her out of the way, wedging his body between her and the frame. Opening the door, he hears her grunt in annoyance, but he ignores her to look over the caterer. She’s a pretty young woman, with really dark, clear skin and braided hair. She’s also completely human and not possessed, which allows Kai to ease up and smile at her.

“Hey,” he greets and stands aside, opening the door for her. “Please, come in.”

She smiles in kind and starts to push the one of the food-laden carts into the room. He lets her pass and looks around the hallway before stepping out quickly to grab the other cart and bring it in.

“Thanks so much!” Bonnie tells her. Kai hums in agreement.

“Yes, thank you. We’re starving.” It’s easier to focus on her then on Bonnie, so Kai turns his attention to the woman. Her name tag reads  _ Grace. _

“How’d you manage to get all that up here by yourself, Miss Grace?” he asks as he walks her back to the door. The siphon can’t tell himself if he’s flirting or being paranoid and he catches Bonnie’s odd look in the mirror. It seems like she’s wondering the same thing.

Grace smiles again. “I had help getting it on the elevator, sir. Then I was just really careful down the hall.”

“All by yourself? Ask your boss for a raise.” Jesus. The low tone sounds sleazy and flirty to his own ears. Grace’s smile becomes mildly confused as she looks between him and Bonnie.

Bonnie’s face is twisted into some mix between amused and grossed-out.

“Despite what it looks like,” she chimes in cheerfully, apparently trying to help. Or more likely, eager to push him on someone else. “We’re just cheap ass friends. Don’t mind me.”

Panic and bitterness flit through Kai. No! He briefly wonders what the fuck came over him, what odd defiance at his thing for Bonnie had him trying to talk his way into another girl’s pants right in front of her. He’s also annoyed that Bonnie seems to be encouraging it.

He defuses the situation before it can get worse. With a self-deprecating smile, he apologizes to Grace, says it’s an old bad habit, tips her a twenty, and bids her good-bye.

“‘Old bad habit’?” Bonnie teases. Kai nods, opening his arms up and waving his fingers in a ‘take your best shot’ manner. “You were a real ladies man, huh?”

“You’d be surprised,” he shoots back. “It’s not like I went to the prison world a hapless virgin or like I didn’t pick up anyone after I left.”

Bonnie’s expression fades from amused to angered as he speaks. “You left me to suffer alone while you went around being a fuckboy?”

“What the hell is that? Also, I offered multiple times to work with you,” he counters. “And each time, you insisted upon remaining enemies, so don’t blame me just because I didn’t let you keep me trapped there for another god knows how long while my chance at taking over my coven came to an end.”

“The coven you ended up killing anyway?” she snaps. Kai's own temper flares, but it’s the hurt her words bring that take him by surprise. It must show on his face, because Bonnie looks instantly chagrined. “I’m so sorry,” she offers. “I’m not trying to pick a fight.”

“Really?” he drawls sarcastically, still feeling snappish. “How foolish of me not realize.”

She smiles apologetically, tilting her head. It’s cute and such weird behavior from her. He realizes that she’s genuinely trying to appease him, showing him an aspect of herself he’d never seen before. The angry tension eases, but doesn’t completely leave him. Kai’s anger had always been either explosive or smoldering, coming in hot manic bursts or spending ages being stewed upon. Right now, with her, he’s feeling a different sort anger and he’s unsure how to respond to it.

“I got cheese ravioli and pork dumplings,” she offers. “I actually got a lot of food that doesn’t go together. Wanna see who can eat more without getting a stomach ache?”

He stares at her, expression unimpressed, not completely ready to forgive her slight. But he’s competitive and he does like eating and she’s actually cute if she thinks she can beat him at stuffing one’s face. Kai practically invented the phrase ‘winner, winner, five-course dinner’.

“Hope you like the taste of defeat,” he tells her with a straight face. She groans. 

“Your jokes suck.”

* * *

His friend Callie had given him a flyer for a rave the night before the full moon when he was at the student union building. Despite being a serious academic and a very different man than who he used to be, Tyler was still a social guy at heart. Callie is a sweet girl in his healthcare administration master’s program who reminds him a lot of Caroline - both were type A’s who liked to party hard - and Tyler is a hard-pressed to find a reason to turn her down. He told her he’d consider it and she left with a smile.

“Don’t think too hard!” she’d tossed over her shoulder, glossy auburn hair glinting as under the sun as she walked off.

The werewolf considers it seriously. It was a risk, so close to the full moon, but he was good at keeping control of himself, and besides that, he hadn’t any time to just kick back and let go recently. He knew a few of the DJ’s playing and they were known for getting lit as fuck.

Goddamn, it seemed like such a good time.

His phone buzzes and Tyler pulls it out absentmindedly, still thinking over the rave. He looks through all the updates that had accumulated over the past few hours. His mind snaps to instant attention when he sees who sent him a recent Snapchat message.

** Bonnie:  ** _ In NYC, can we meet? Sum place anonymous, big crowds. I have a tail I need 2 shake. _

Tyler’s mind flashes back to the image of the couple he’d seen by the red car, when he almost hit another car. The feeling of unease from then returns, because the girl he’d thought was Bonnie - who was here, who had contacted him - had been with a guy that looked like Kai.

_ I have a tail I need 2 shake. _

It hadn’t been his imagination.

But he can’t let himself be upset and suppresses the quiet rage that bubbles up under his chest like lava. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he needs to gather all the pieces to put the puzzle together. Tyler might have walked away from Mystic Falls and all the pain it wrought, but he hadn’t walked away from his friends. Whatever shit Bonnie’s in, she reached out for him, and any way he can help her out, he will. She more than deserves that much from him.

He takes a picture of the flyer and sends it with tagline.

_ Sum place anon w big crowds. I’ll even buy u a drink _

* * *

Before he can go to Virginia, Ellis decides to visit a young girl in West Virginia that he’d exorcised months before. Her foster had left messages for Ellis, stating that the girl was starting to act up in school again and maybe he could come check on her?

Ellis highly doubts the girl is possessed again. Demonic possession was rare and  _ strange _ , nothing at all like the dramatics of the movies. For one, it was nearly impossible to tell if someone was possessed. There were behavior changes, of course, but demons were excellent liars.

For another thing, it was unlikely the possessed persons survived.

The vast majority of cases he’d seen had come in too late, people little more than husked out shells, the beast inside them having caused their bodies to begin rapidly decaying and burning up from the inside, like they had fever that literally cooked them. Most people were dead in a month, if even. Those that did survive longer were usually catatonic and disabled once the demon was gone, their minds and bodies both broken. Once purged, it was unlikely for those who survived demonic possession to ever come back to themselves.

Natalie was one of the rare few that did.

When Ellis had been called to her aid, she’d been possessed for nearly three months, her behavior becoming more and more erratic and dangerous, the demon controlling her not interested in maintaining a farce. Through the possession, it had come to light that Natalie was suffering sexual abuse at the hands of her father and older brother, which had made it easier for the demon to come into her - Nate, scared and hurt, was looking for a way to escape the abuse she’d gone through for years and the demon made that possible.

It had hurt Ellis to learn that the demon had such a strong foothold and that Natalie wasn’t burning up like most hosts because she’d  _ welcomed _ the creature, preferring to be a prisoner in her own body than to go through any more assault. The fact that anyone could ever be that desperate had enraged him and when the exorcism was over, he’d reported her father and brother to the authorities and Natalie had been put into the foster system when the abuse was proven.

Every now and then, he checked on her, just to make sure she was okay. Her case had hit him harder than any other he’d seen before, not only having lost her before she was purged but having nearly lost her to suicide after. More than anyone else, he understood her ordeal, and so he made himself available when she needed a friend.

After leaving Nevada for West Virginia, Ellis gets taken to an Enterprise where he rents a a hatchback Volkswagen for an indefinite time. He tries not to think about the fact that his card being charged to the rental center long after he stopped checking in was his way of letting his congregation know he didn’t make it. It was beyond morbid.

“Father Ellis!” Helen, Natalie’s current foster mother, greeted when he arrived.

“How are you?” he asks, shaking her hand. She nods and sighs.

“I’m fine,” she replies. “Just worried about Nate. She’s been acting out at school, getting into fights, yelling at teachers, sneaking out, dropping grades, doing drugs. I’m at my wits end.”

“Teenage nihilism, huh?” Ellis teases with a soft smile. He adjusts his glasses. “Does she know you called me?”

“No,” Helen shakes her head. “I was hoping you’d kind of surprise her straight.”

“I can try. She’s here?”

“Yes, in her room. I painted the window shut and the door has to stay open.” Helen hesitates, then asks, “Would you like to stay for dinner Father Ellis?”

Ellis doesn’t really want to, would rather get a move on, but he also doesn’t want to be rude. Besides, it had been a few months since he’d last seen Nate, having gotten busy when he was named head of his own church back in Nevada. It might do them both some good to be around each other, having made a genuine bond as two foster kids whose lives had been touched by the demonic. He’d like to at least make sure she gets through hers unscathed.

“Sure,” he informs her. She smiles in relief.

“Thank you, Father Ellis,” she leads him to the stairs. “Nate’s room is second on the left.”

Following her directions, Ellis knocks on Nate’s door, who looks up at him from where she’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, laptop open. Her face is serious and unsurprised by his unannounced presence. The priest grins at that, leaning his shoulder against the door frame.

“Helen said you weren’t expecting me, but somehow I doubt that.”

Nate waves him in and at her instructions, he parks his butt at her desk chair. Nate has 4 foster siblings, but being the oldest girl and the only one who has PTSD that leaves her with nightmares, she gets her own room.

Sweeping a lock of golden hair behind her ear, the teenager looks him over and Ellis does the same. She looks, for lack of better word, haggard. Dark circles gather beneath her eyes, her lips are chapped and cracked, and her hair looks somewhat unkempt, swept up into what Ellis calls a “depression bun”. He frowns in concern. Natalie wasn’t the most fashion forward girl he knew, but even then she had a sort of punkish style that was nothing at all like the shapeless sweats that drowned her frame.

“You doing okay, Nate?”

“I knew you’d come. I knew Helen or Linda would call you if I acted out enough,” she says, looking over his shoulder, eyes distant. Ellis frowns in concern that she seemingly jeopardized her stay at this home just to see him.

The girl bites her lip and he’s taken back to that scared girl he exorcised three years ago. It alarms him because at sixteen and  _ supposedly  _ living a relatively normal life, she shouldn’t remind him at all of that kid.

“Seriously, Nate, talk to me.”

“Will you help me practice sign language?” she asks out of nowhere. The sudden deflection annoys Ellis, until he sees her look to the open door. He gets it then; whatever she has to say, she doesn’t want anyone overhearing.

Nodding, he says. “I’m gonna mix verbal and non-verbal.”

“What’s up?” he asks again, with both his hands and mouth. Smiling gratefully, Nate signs back.

_ “Tell me your story again please. I need to check something.” _

Ellis smiles in confusion, but tells her anyway. “My parents died in a house fire when I was seven and I was put in the system like you.”

With his hands, he tells her, “ _ I had visions back then, about demons and the people they hurt. At first people thought it was my imagination, but then it kept happening. First, I was considered delusional, but when the things I saw correlated with some news stories, the last family I was with called their priest. I’ve been with the church since. _ ”

“When I was old enough, my last foster family thought religious work would suit me and introduced me to a local priest. I fell in love with the word, and I pursued becoming a priest myself.”

Nate watches him intently, nodding again to let him know she understood what he signed.

“ _ What about the visions? You had them as long as you can remember? You’ve never been possessed? _ ”

“Yes,” he answers regularly, to all her questions. Nate nods.

“ _ I think I’m having visions too. Or something. I know things sometimes and then I find out those things actually happened. It's like stuff was left behind. I’m worried about some of the other things I know. _ ”

Ellis hesitates, looking at her door. No wonder she wanted to use sign language. No one in her foster family knew about the exorcism, just the abuse. They had no idea that Nate’s nightmares stem from more than the memories of her father and brother.

He tries to think of a way to sign possession.

“ _ Since your visitor? _ ” Nate hesitates to answer.

“Yes and no,” she mutters. “ _ When they left, I had dreams, but the knowing started happening about eight months ago. _ ”

Ellis pales. Eight months ago, when he started having his own visions about Bonnie. Pulling out his art book, he shows her Bonnie’s sketch and Nate’s eyes widen in recognition and some relief.

“You too?” she breathes and he nods. Flipping to a blank page in his art book, he pulls a pen out of his pocket.

There’s a soft creak by the door and without acknowledging the eavesdropper, he signs, “ _ Write it out, everything you know, please. Don’t leave out anything. _ ”

Out loud, he says. “You gotta let me read some of those short stories, kid.”

* * *

Even after hours of walking around the mall, her belly is still plump, and Bonnie rubs at it absently. She tries not feel pouty about how thoroughly defeated Kai had left her after their little impromptu eating contest. Bonnie, having always been pretty athletic and a regular at getting sweaty, was no stranger to being able to surprise people with her appetite. She knows from experience vampires don’t really need any sustenance except blood, and only eat out of habit or pleasure. But Kai’s ability to pack it away, even back in the prison world, was damn inhuman. His metabolism must have been through the rough.

Luckily, his suspicion of everyone hadn’t changed his mind about them going out. NYC’s truly the city that never sleeps and they took the subway to the the Fulton Center. Both on the train and at the mall, Kai mean-mugged no less than every person who looked their way while Bonnie had went into full-blown tourist mode.

“There are too many fucking people,” Kai grumbles now, one hand clutching at his bags and the other hand shoved into a pocket of his new jacket.

Bonnie never thought Kai’s tastes would have bordered on luxuriant until he dragged her into Banana Republic when the jacket caught his eye in the display. It was a stand collar with blended grey cashmere lining the soft tan leather - the bottom hem fell just below his waist and it was the sort of jacket that looked like expensive cologne smelled. She had mocked him with his ‘pay with what money’ line when he handed over five hundred-dollar bills for his clothes to the cashier - the coat, two shirts, and a pair of jeans - because of course he had decided he wanted a jacket from a  _ non-outlet _ BR store. She used it again he pulled another few hundred out of his wallet for a phone-tablet-service contract at a T-Mobile store and only then did it occur to her to wonder where his funds came from.

(“Do you deal drugs?” she’d hissed. “You literally just rose from the dead, how do you have this much in petty change?”

He’d sent her exasperated glare. “It’s an enchanted wallet, Bonnie. Produces dollar dollar bills for me when I need them.”

She spent several minutes flabbergasted at that, because he was, essentially, cheating the economy. Kai just ignored her hushed ranting about what fake fiat money did to the stock market.)

“Shouldn’t the crowds make you happy after twenty years alone in the prison world?” she shoots back, adjusting her own acquired bags. Her shopping had been much reserved, mainly essentials such as toiletries, a new travel bag, underwear, another pair of jeans, a light sweater and two cute shirts that all combined  _ didn’t _ cost over two nights at their hotel.

Kai’s antsy behavior left her on edge; she spent enough time around vampires to know that their default mode for dealing with the world was self-assured, so his aggressive mistrust was off-putting.

His frown gets turned her way. “Did it slip your pretty little head that anyone can be possessed by a demon? Just because I agreed to the outing doesn’t mean I’m happy about being a sitting duck.”

“I’m sure that screaming kid you just glared at was totally going to kidnap me,” she gripes. “That tantrum? Just a distraction tactic.” The levity that he’d shown before slipped farther away the longer they were out and it was starting to bring down her own mood.

“Oh him? No, that was just because I have a history of committing violent crimes against children.”

Bonnie frowns at the reminder that she’s entrusting her life to a psychopathic murderer. A woman who was pushing a stroller past them right as he said that sends him a horrified look and swerves her child away. 

“It was a  _ joke _ ,” Kai snaps at the woman’s back, who only walks faster.

“If only,” Bonnie mutters.

“Let’s just go,” he sighs. “Do you need anything else?”

Bonnie thinks. “No,” she says. “But I want to walk around more.”

At Kai’s exasperated expression, she snaps. “Look, no one’s after us now, at this very moment, right? Despite the fact that I’m still annoyed at you for teleporting me away from my friends and not letting me contact them because you’re a paranoid mess, I would like to make the best of situation. So let me act like a goddamn tourist and enjoy being in New York for the first time since I was kid before we have to jump back into the damn fray.”

Bonnie fails to mention that she had snuck a message to Tyler when Kai had been in the shower, and she was just waiting for another moment alone (because he was literally  _ always _ there) to check for a reply.

The tall brunette’s jaw clenches at her tirade and he glowers down at her, but Bonnie doesn’t back down, meeting his eye with a defiant stance of her own. It’s like electricity crackles between them, deja vu all over again, as they stand chest to chest with opposing desires and one shared desire that’s all too real. Kai exhales, his breath smelling like the cinnamon gum he bought.

“Fine,” he snips. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“To some place private, so I can port all this back to our room. You might not get kidnapped by a demon, but carrying all this shit around at night is asking to be robbed and since I’m sure you don’t want me killing any humans...”

Bonnie concedes to his logic and lets him lead her to a unisex bathroom where he locks the door and helps her carefully pack all their stuff into the new duffel she purchased. He closes his eyes and utters the spell under his breath breath and their bag vanishes in a second. Kai pockets their paper receipts, tosses the shopping bags, then unlocks the door.

“After you,” he states with flourished half-bow. Bonnie flicks him on her way out, then catches the eyes of a young woman around her age who looks from her to Kai. Her eyebrows raise and then she sends a wink, a congratulatory smile,  _ and  _ a thumbs up at Bonnie, who ducks her head, cheeks warm when she realizes exactly what it looks like just happened.

Kai doesn’t notice the exchange, messing with his new phone, which the salesman had charged and helped him set up.

“Where to?” he questions, finally looking up. He must mistake Bonnie’s embarrassment for genuine horror, because his alarm shoots up. He grips her elbow gently and turns her face him, the woman behind back but in Bonnie’s line of sight.

“What happened?” he asks. “Did you see something?”

Their invested on-looker seems on the verge of melting and now she’s holding up both of her thumbs and mouthing something Bonnie’s sure is meant to be encouraging, but only leaves her mortified. It must show on her expression because Kai stands straighter and starts to turn, causing the woman to turn her attention to her phone and Bonnie to scramble for his attention.

“No!”

Kai sends her a weird look and she smiles nervously. “You know what? I saw a photo booth earlier and I kinda wanted to take pictures, but then I thought, ew, not with Kai, but now I’m thinking why not? I might not be alive tomorrow.”

He frowns at that sentiment and Bonnie grabs his arm to tug him away, ignoring the stranger’s knowing gaze as she turns to watch them leave.

Guiding him back to the photo booth she saw earlier, she pushes away her humiliation and hoping to god that the booth wasn’t occupied. It wasn’t. Kai is strangely quiet, hadn’t said a damn thing the whole walk over and when Bonnie turns to face him, she sees him looking down at their hands. Which are clasped. Because she’d changed her grip from his arm to his hand.

Bonnie drops his hand like a hot potato and Kai bites his lip, clearly trying not to laugh at her.

“Want to take the stupid pictures or not?”

Kai shrugs and they clamber in and Bonnie kind of spaces out, mood still dour from the all the embarrassment she suffered before. His chatter fills the booth and before she knows it a bright flash shocks her.

“So we did angry faces, now silly,” Kai says, jostling her with his shoulder. Facing the screen, he crosses his eyes and sticks his tongue out. Bonnie scrunches her nose in disgust at him and the camera flashes again.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, you wanted to do this,” he reprimands, facing her as the countdown on the screen begins again. Bonnie turns to him, ready to snap, but the vitriol dies on her tongue when they make eye contact. His eyes are really blue. Not like the icy, piercing blue Damon and Lily, or even Kai’s sister Jo had, but a more muted color. Not quite as warm as Caroline’s or Matt’s, but kind of gloomy. Grey and stormy. The camera flashes again, lighting Kai’s face. The mechanical beep from the countdown ticks steadily. He tilts his head and smiles softly, confused by her focus. 

It causes her to smile back reflexively, a genuine one and his grin grows in time for the camera to flash the last time. Both of their smiles die. They don’t move, continuing to look at each other. That electricity is back. Same as the cave in ninety-four and from their fight just minutes ago.

“Ready to go?” Kai’s voice is husky and soft. The lights in the booth dim to a gentle glow, casting half his face in shadow and softening the other half.

“Yeah,” she rasps. “Lets go.”

* * *

_ I’ll be back in the states in two days. _

Jeremy’s email is short and succinct and Alaric is actually surprised to see it so soon. He didn’t expect Jeremy to read the e-mail or decide to abandon his mission in South America to come back.

But one of Jeremy’s soft spot is definitely his ex, despite how the two seemed to fizzle out. Over the past few years, Jeremy never failed to mention Bonnie in his emails when she had been missing, and for the last several months, a lot of the information Alaric had gathered in regards to hellmouths had been sent to him from Jeremy, who traveled to a lot to get a hold of the sources he then mailed to Alaric. He’d really grown into his own and Ric was proud in a way.

He was also worried. Jeremy was a seasoned hunter by now, of many supernatural creatures that wreaked havoc on human lives. He wasn’t sure how this new Jeremy would react to Kai being so close to Bonnie, especially Jeremy had fallen of the radar so quickly after Elena was cursed. No one really knows who Jeremy is anymore.

“Daddy!” Lizzie cries from upstairs. Ric sighs.

“Coming, sweetheart!” he calls back, closing the laptop and going to see what new thing his kid needed.

* * *

Bonnie kind of hates herself right now. No, it’s not even ‘kind of’, it’s a full-blown bout of self-loathing that has her depressed. They had left the Fulton Center nearly twenty minutes ago and instead of hopping back on the subway to go to their hotel, Bonnie convinces Kai to hoof it with her for a few blocks. He ends up grabbing an ice cream from a street vendor, who makes them in huge customizable waffle cones. Bonnie declined when he offered to get her one, because she had realized something.

They were on a freaking date.

Guilt, self-loathing, and genuine bafflement had swamped her, her emotions kicking her around like a soccer ball. Kai seems unaffected and not for the first time, she wonders how on earth  _ Kai _ of all people was chosen by some divine being to be her protector. She doesn’t understand at all.

For one, they barely knew each other, bizarre connection or not. And for two, Kai was a  _ sociopath _ who killed off literally his entire coven. She obviously shouldn’t want to associate with him, no one would, so it leaves her scratching her head that someone, God or Krishna or even the damn devil, thought Kai was worthy of a second chance.

Mysterious ways her ass, she mentally scoffs. There was just madness, no method at all.

“Hey, let’s go in here,” Kai says suddenly, his voice a lot louder and closer to her ear than she expects it to be. It makes her jump, but Kai has already moved past her turning to stand in front of a doorway.

OCCULT SHOPPE the neon purple sign reads. Another flashing light display proclaims the store to be open while a poster in the window proclaims affordable palm and tarot readings. Bonnie sneers at Kai.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we need supplies. And just because you and I know it’s probably a bullshit scammer doesn’t mean we can’t indulge someone’s means of making a living.”

Bonnie rolls her eyes, but follows him inside. A bored and obviously stoned teenager greets them and Kai waves back, grabbing a basket. Clashing incense smells hits her nose and she wrinkles it in disdain. Looking around, Bonnie’s unimpressed. It’s mostly bullshit trinkets proclaiming great power, but none of them strike her as magic and judging by the way Kai ignores them, not striking him as magic either. The store is a little bigger than she expects, a few aisles in the main room, a counter with a display rack and a beaded curtain that separated them from a Madam Turner doing the fortune readings. Kai finds an aisle with bottle dried herbs, candles, and ugly dream-catchers. Grabbing a few to herbs put in his basket, he hums in delight when he finds small bottles of essential oils, sniffing at a few of them and checking them for expiration dates. Bonnie looks around herself, passing over ouija boards and fake “bone runes” (they were wood, bone felt entirely different). She finds herself captivated by a display case of tarot cards, struck with nostalgia, and considers buying a deck.

Bonnie hadn’t had a reading since her Grams died and considering everything that happened since then, she hadn’t ever felt the need to play around with the cards. Eventually, they just ended up being lost after so many years.

“Want to get a deck? I’m good at readings,” Kai’s voice surprised her again and this time his arm shoots out to steady her when she startles.

She shoots him a dubious look. “You’re good at tarot readings?” He shrugs.

“Yeah. Palmistry too. Remember when I told you that you had nice palms?” She does. She was unlikely to ever forget - it was one of the oddest compliments she’d ever received.

“I was gonna follow it with a pick up line about reading them for you, but then I lost my nerve,” he confessed. “It’s kind of funny, you make me really nervous sometimes, but then other times, you put me really at ease. Or you piss me off, and I kind of want to choke. On the really bad days, it’s like, all three and then I’m just fucked.”

Bonnie’s expression must look as incredulous as she feels, because he laughs.

“That’s the one,” he teases. “That look killed my confidence. You probably thought I was weird as hell for saying that.”

“I already thought you were a weirdo,” she mutters. “You literally sucked jam off your fingers in front of me, after giving the most random shopping list in history.”

“I had to make a model Ascendant.”

“Then you tricked me into feeling you up.”

“That was all you, Bonster,” he huffs. “You could have just  _ said _ I had the Ascendant on me, you didn’t have to put your hand on my chest.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps. She says nothing about the hand comment, because he’s right. She had done that, because she wanted to. Because she had liked him, despite their less than stellar first meeting. Because she had been attracted to him, despite the bad feeling he made her intuition scream.

Kai ignores her, calls the stoned teen over and picks out a pretty deck, black with metallic gold etchings for the faces and a smooth black back with gold lacy looking edges. She tries not to smile at being once more confronted by his luxuriant tastes.

After Kai buys his supplies - ungodly amounts of empty vials, herbs, oils, and salt (six giant ass canisters,  _ jeez _ ) - and the tarot deck, they get back on the subway to go to their hotel room, where the bag Kai ported at the mall is sitting neatly at the foot of the bed.

“Could you imagine if a worker had been cleaning in here when that popped in?” he asked.

“Poor Grace,” Bonnie mutters sardonically and Kai shoots her an exasperated look.

Grace is yet another reason for her to feel wracked by guilt and confusion. Kai had been flirting with her, had clearly found her pretty and despite the amusement she got from the situation, she couldn’t help the sting it caused to her pride.

She’s never seen Kai’s attention divert to another girl when she was around and Bonnie was surprised at the hurt it wrought. Which again, lead to her guilt, because she was with Enzo, was fighting to get back to him and Kai was just a fucking blip on her radar. Which then lead to her self-loathing, all of which culminated to produce her bad mood when she had realized that she and Kai were on a pseudo-date.

Which is back now as she stares down at the single bag filled with both of their things, on the single bed that they had both waken up in earlier. Suddenly, Bonnie feels filthy.

“I’m going to shower,” she announces and leaves for the restroom before he can say anything. With the shower running to stifle the noise, Bonnie checks Snapchat when she sees she has a new message from - thank god - Tyler.

_ “Sum place anon w big crowds. I’ll even buy u a drink”  _ is the tagline over a picture for a party flyer, scheduled for the next night. She frowns, checking her phone for the moon phase. Tyler’s pushing it, but she needs to see him, find a way to get the fuck away from her obsessive protector and back to her friends.

She screenshots the Snap before it fades, replying with a “ _ c u there” _ and then gets in the shower before Kai grows suspicious.

When she gets out, Kai’s there by the bathroom door like a creep, holding a brand new vial of that oil from before. Snatching it before he can say a word, Bonnie locks herself back into the bathroom to strip,  _ again _ , and rub herself down with his stupid oil,  _ again, _ before getting dressed.  _ Again _ . 

“Good girl,” Kai cheers when she steps out again. Bonnie flicks him off and throws the still full vial back at him.

“Just keep it,” she huffs when he opens his big mouth and throws herself on the bed. “Sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Oh, not the floor? Thanks for the upgrade. Such hospitality for someone who’s risking their life to keep you safe.”

“Fuck off.”

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” he sounds genuinely bemused by her attitude.

“No one, I’m just tired. And you talk  _ so much, _ ” she grumbles, throwing an arm over her face. Kai’s silence after her snark is somewhat guilty and self-conscious.

“I’ll read your fortune,” he says apologetically. Bonnie moves her arm slightly to peek at him, his defeated tone softening her temper again. He looks kind of like a kicked puppy, put off by her annoyance with him, and Bonnie thinks it’s unfair that someone so dangerous could look so... _ precious. _ It was a lie, in some sense; while he was showing that he had changed and while she had the time she needed to move past the raw hurt and anger that used to swell her heart when she saw him, there were enough flashes of his old self that proved to her it was just his personality. That callousness he could have, that danger he presented to others? That was just who Kai  _ was  _ and no amount of supernatural fix-its changed that.

But god, he really did look like sad puppy.

With a sigh, she sits, propping herself up with her arms.

“Yeah. Read my fortune.”

Kai beams and goes to grab the black velvet satchel his new tarot deck came in. He kicks his boots off and jumps up on the bed with her, both of them sitting cross-legged with enough space between them for a spread to fit.

“Is there a spread you prefer? Anchor, tree, 3-card, a cross, planetary?”

Bonnie stares at him, surprised by his eagerness.

“I’m good at this,” he assures. “I couldn’t make my own magic, but my readings were always accurate and detailed as hell. The cards really like me, but I could read anything - cards, tea leaves, runes, bones, you name it. I used to do fortunes in exchange for magic. For a while, my dad was convinced I might be coven seer, but...well yeah, that didn’t go right.”

He looks down at this, shuffling the cards and Bonnie has another realization of the night. She made him nervous. Like genuinely nervous; his weird babbling confession earlier wasn’t just him talking out of his ass, but him trying to bridge a gap between them with a vulnerability.

Fuck, they really don't know each other that well, considering all the pandemonium between them.

“Hexefus,” she challenges and Kai grins.

“Alright,” he agrees and passes her the deck. “Shuffle, cut, and choose.”

“You’re not gonna make me ask a specific question?”

“Nah. Considering how interesting your life’s going, I think a general outlook should be fine.”

She snorts, then straightens the cards in her hands. Setting them down, she cuts the deck, then begins to select her cards, handing them to Kai one by one. The Heretic puts them in their spots perfectly. Once the seven cards are down, he waits for her to finish straightening the rest of the deck and putting them back in the satchel.

Bonnie stares at the cards and Kai stares at her, his hand hovering over the card in the center of the hexagon, the root of all her problems. He stares and waits for her to steel herself, because Bonnie knows card-reading between witches isn’t just fun or coincidence. It’s a type of magic, one less direct than a spell or potion, but one that requires both a proficiency in skill and innate talent nonetheless. Bonnie doesn’t doubt Kai was telling the truth about being good at it - if he was good enough to be considered for a seer, selling fortunes for magic  _ was _ something he’d do.

“I can’t pay you,” she mutters. The siphon grins.

“This one’s on the house,” he replies and flips the first card.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I was going to post this last Sunday, but then my itinerary was pushed back and I got to add like...7 more pages. I doubt Nate will pop back up again, but she would be face-claimed by Peyton List if she did. I think this title, the song it came from, and the overall theme of prophecy/foresight/foreboding, etc went together pretty well in this chapter, considering that it was all mostly foreshadowing and build up anyway. And Bonkai fluff. Always with the Bonkai fluff. Always.
> 
> Gah, this chapter was fucking MASSIVE - 22.5 pages single-spaced, can you believe?
> 
> Also, yeah, I do think it’s corny, but demon!Damon is henceforth Daemon in Caroline and Stefan’s POV shots, because I do think they would need some way to separate him from the Damon they knew before. They’re interacting with him the most atm and the Behemoth in Damon is the sort to pick up and use the mannerisms/personality/memories of their host, which must be trippy as hell for Steroline when they recall that the Damon they “loved” is dead as a doornail. He’s still just Damon in other perspectives though, including his own.
> 
> Fun fact about me: I do tarot and hexefus is one of my fave spreads. Whenever I read myself, hexefus is one of my top 3 go-tos. So...will it ever be revealed what Bonnie's reading is? Maybe. :D
> 
> So, a little more backstory (I’m working on transcribing my notes into Tumblr friendly posts, but I'm also studying for certification, so time is crunched), and more clues about Kai. If you give up on trying to figure it out, I understand. The big reveal is coming soon anyhoo. Okie, snookums! Please review, I’m insecure and I need validation.


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